Loving Severus
by Mary Anna Witt
Summary: Muggle Lydia discovers a surprising connection with the mysterious Severus Snape. Their reluctant friendship develops into lust, love and more.GoF thru DH.Look for some sexy scenes between Sevvy and my original character. NOTE:Reviews now contain spoilers
1. A Mysterious Encounter

A/N Welcome new readers. Just a note for those of you who are inclined to skip directly to Chapter 10. The sexy scenes in this story depend a lot on the emotion and angst that preceed them. You'll enjoy it more if you don't skip the foreplay. Despite the title, I'm not even sure Chapter 10 is the best one. Let me know-Reviews are always appreciated.

Thank you to J.K. Rowling for creating Severus, Harry Potter and the world of Hogwarts. Lydia's story was created by me.

* * *

The sunlight was twinkling off the ripples on the lake as I climbed up the last dune. The long grasses scratched at my bare calves as I trampled the long disused path. I can't even remember who told me about this place, years ago. I just remembered the arduous hike up and down the grassy dunes, and the glorious secluded gleaming beach at the end. That wonderful experience of being alone in the world, that I was a solitary explorer on this shore.

The cottage was mine now, the consolation prize of a bitter divorce and an estranged family. My husband's money had purchased it despite the fact that my relatives would have wanted my aunt's cottage to be sold to anyone but me. But cash and lawyers can accomplish any sneaky thing. So now I was here in the town of Anther, a tiny tourist spot that catered to weekenders and families on a budget. I remembered from my childhood those shining sands of the tiny strip of beach at the bottom of the bluff of the last dune. The expanse of the placid lake surrounded by the lush green countryside and stately old trees. I was looking forward to returning what I thought of as my private beach.

So far, I'd been busy with the details of moving: cleaning, packing and unpacking. There was still much to do, to settle in and make the place my own, but I woke up this sunny, warm morning, and knew I couldn't wait another day to hike to the lake. I put my bathing suit on under my shorts and t-shirt, and packed a lunch in a small backpack—just water and fruit and a sandwich. Some sunscreen, a towel, and a trashy, but juicy paperback romance in a tote bag and my preparations were complete. I'd stay for a few hours, enjoy a bit of the weekend for a change, before summer was over.

The hike from the parking lot at the park, to the shore was not much more than a mile, but it was up and down dunes, so I arrived at that last bluff, sweaty, breathless, and triumphant. My beach hadn't changed at all that I could see. The pristine sands stretched out in a quarter-moon below the curve of the steep bluff, which I descended with my feet sinking in the sand, with accelerating speed so that I had to run off a few steps as I reached the bottom. The lake was the same as I remembered, tranquil and vast. Far off to my left, I could see the luxurious mansions interspersed among the hilltops. And to my right, the unbroken expanse of grass and forest. I had no idea whose land I might be trespassing on. I knew that just before the mansions, was the public area, where the parks of Anther welcomed picnickers and sun-bathers, where you could rent a rowboat or a canoe, for an afternoon on the lake.

None of the park could be seen from my secret spot though. And there were no mansions above me, spying down. Whoever this place belonged to, they were clearly in no position to bother me. I dropped my bags on the sand, taking out a water bottle. I gulped it down, then kicked off my shoes, and removed my shorts and shirt. I walked into the water, deliciously cool against my skin. I waded to my waist, then did a shallow surface dive and swam out. I remembered that the lake didn't get deep rapidly, but I had a momentary thought of caution, remembering I was alone. I stopped, treaded water, tentatively reaching my feet for the bottom, which I found to my relief, but only after I'd submersed. I pushed back up to the surface and began to swim back to shore.

I was intent on my swim, focusing on form, breath, strokes. I was an average and infrequent swimmer, but on the occasions I did swim, I tried to practice the lessons I'd learned in school. Finally, my fingertips brushed the bottom, and I stood up to walk the rest of the way to shore. I wiped my face with my hands, pushing my wet bangs back with my fingertips, and that's when I saw someone on the shore standing over my things.

I was instantly gripped by fear, not only because I didn't expect to encounter a stranger while I was alone in this isolated place, but also because this stranger was strange indeed. I assumed it was a man, because of his height and build, despite the fact that he was dressed in long black robes, with flowing shoulder-length black hair. He looked up at me, and I could see a severe scowl on his long face. Hell, hell, oh bloody hell, I thought. There was no way out. I would have to approach him and hope for the best. Or at least hope he'd merely scold me for trespassing, and not abduct me for sinister purposes. Because after all, what kind of freak goes to the beach in summer wearing robes? I didn't think those gothic types were also nature buffs.

I tried to act casual, friendly, as I walked toward the shore and called out to him, "Hello there," hoping to get some response that would reassure me (or perhaps convince me to run for my life). He merely twitched his lips into a sneer. Damn, this was bound to be unpleasant. My peaceful day was at an end, and I was doubly disappointed that my dream of a secret haven near my new weekend home was so quickly coming to an end.

He continued to stand there right next to my things, so I had no choice but to approach him. "A bit far from the park," he said with a dark, soft voice, as I picked up my towel. I wrapped it around my shoulders and stood clutching it like an embarrassed schoolgirl.

"It's a nice hike," I said. "It's been a long time since I've come out here, but I like it."

"Mmm," was all he said in reply, his long face a perfect display of derision. I was waiting for him to speak out, to question my presence, or explain his, but it didn't happen. It seemed he was just going to wait for me to leave. Well, I certainly wasn't going to be forced off my beach, just because Darth Vadar missed his Sci-Fi convention and had nowhere else to go. I decided to make that perfectly clear.

"I've got everything I need for a day at the beach," I said, continuing my pretend friendliness. "Got my book, my lunch. I'm a light eater though—not much to share."

"I don't want your lunch," he said scornfully. His voice was surprisingly melodious despite the sarcasm. It made me want to look at him, to expect someone exceptional. His pale face, long beaky nose, lank dark hair surely fell short of that voice. Although there did seem to be a little of the same mystery and depth in his dark brown eyes.

Those eyes though, were glaring at me again and igniting afresh my indignation. "Just out for a stroll?" I asked, trying to sound casual, not accusatory.

"Not for long," he snapped, and quickly turned and walked away, his long cape swirling around him. I couldn't help but suppress a snicker. He turned back to me as if he'd heard, though I was sure I was silent, and caught me with my face full of amusement. "Have a delightful day," he said darkly, ominously. It might have alarmed me if I wasn't trying so hard not to laugh.

He strode off along the shore towards the undeveloped land, stalking through the long grasses that encroached on the shore where the narrow strip of sandy beach ended. He had at least one advantage, being dressed head to toe in black. The sharp grasses wouldn't scratch his legs like they had mine. Once he disappeared from my sight over the dunes, I breathed a sigh of relief, and allowed myself to giggle heartily. Danger averted, I looked forward to telling friends and co-workers the funny story of encountering Darth on the beach.


	2. A Crazy Notion

Oddly enough though, when the time came, I didn't really feel like telling the story of the stranger on the beach. Without mentioning him, I checked up on the property along the shore. It was listed as belonging to a company identified as HSWW, but I couldn't find out anything more about that company, not even the nature of its business or what those letters stood for. But I thought it was unlikely that the caped man had any more right to be there than I did.

It was probably also unlikely that I'd encounter him again. It was an assumption that reassured me that it was safe to visit the secluded shore again. I didn't bother to question why I wanted to spend another solitary morning at the beach, just six days later. True, I was a little curious about the mysterious stranger, but I certainly wasn't going back in hopes of seeing him.

But as I climbed the final grassy dune and the lake came into view, an alarming thrill ran through me as I saw him already standing there, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the water, motionless. He wasn't wearing the cape today, just a long tunic-style jacket and black pants. My breath seemed even shorter suddenly, I could hear my heart thudding, feel all the symptoms of fear. Yet most fearful of all was my awareness that in spite of my apprehension, I still wanted to approach him. I shook off the feeling and as I was about to walk down, he turned around and looked directly up at me, as if he'd known I was there.

I gave a quick wave, and clambered down the sand dune. "Good morning, again," I said cheerily, as if everything was perfectly normal. And perhaps it was. There were unusual people in the world who didn't act or dress like everyone else. Some of them were very nice and interesting people even with their freaky quirks. But just in case, I'd leave my shoes on. And my clothes too. No need to swim until he left.

"Good morning, again," he echoed me, as I came closer, that velvety voice once again surprising me with the way it seemed to stroke my earlobes and the back of my neck. Get a grip, I told myself. As before, the man was scowling, and I wondered if he'd been regularly coming to this spot and was displeased at my intrusion. "And good day," he added and began to walk away.

It was impulse, pure impulse, that prompted me to say, "You don't have to leave." He gave me a quick look of question, that raised questions in my own mind, of what I was thinking, and I managed to blurt out, "Although, I suppose we've both come here hoping to be alone."

"Very perceptive of you," he intoned wryly, gazing at me with raised eyebrow. "And that would require one of us to depart. So, I will most generously remove myself from your presence now. Goodbye." And with that, he strode away. He barely broke his stride to pick up his cape from where it had been lying folded neatly on a large rock. He swung it around his shoulders as he continued walking swiftly away. This time, I didn't feel like giggling.

I was dismayed to see him leave, there was no other way to describe it. A crazy notion, I told myself. Did I want to get back in the groove with a nut case for my rebound man? At least it fit the desired pattern, that the rebound man should be someone flawed, since the rebound relationship is doomed anyway. Or since any relationship I was in, was bound to be doomed, I thought, cynically.

I didn't feel like swimming, my magazine was too trite, and I ended up leaving before I even wanted to eat my lunch. In the future I needed to make my trips to the beach in the afternoon, and avoid Mr. Grim Reaper's morning stroll. The thought satisfied me despite a little sadness. Mystery men may be intriguing, but seldom do any good for a woman. You are smart enough to stop chasing the bad guy, the unavailable man, I told myself sternly. I was just such a fuck-up at relationships. I needed something crystal-clear good from the beginning. Not some murky, cape-wearing freak who couldn't stand me already.


	3. Negative Ions

The very next weekend, Friday night, to be specific, I decided to head back to the beach, for a sunset gaze at the lake. I'd read an article on-line at work that day extolling the benefits of the negative ions in shoreline air, generated by the action of the wind and waves on the air. I knew there was a perfectly good reason for my newfound fascination with the beach. And of course, I was being very careful to avoid any creepy characters by going at night instead of morning.

There was a rather large log washed up on the beach, and I sat down on it when I arrived, and stared at the lake, at the willows dangling on the distant shore, looking like sleepy wooly mammoths, swaying gently, dark silhouettes in the fading sun. There was a faint breeze blowing soft splashing ripples against the sand. I was listening to this nature's rhythm, my mind wandering between thoughts of my past and my future, when I jumped at a voice behind me.

"Again?"

There was no mistaking the voice. And no mistaking the feeling of satisfaction that followed my momentary fright. "Hello," I said, happily, without reservation. Hearing the pleasure in my voice, I felt like a stranger to myself. Three encounters, and somehow, without my own permission, I was liking this unknown man. I was out of control. "How are you?" I asked brightly.

He replied in his usual morose way, "Splendid."

I began babbling in some blatant misguided effort to keep him talking to me. "It's lovely here at sunset. I've had a dreadful week. Work was hell. I had to come out here and get my fix. Did you know it's a scientific fact that the shore is good for your mood? Something about tens of thousands of negative ions, which sounds like a bad thing, but actually negative ions allow more oxygen to the brain, which increases levels of serotonin. Some kind of brain chemical that makes you feel good."

He'd been watching me, with what looked like a flicker of amusement on his lips that never developed into an actual smile. "Science," he scoffed. "That's the only thing you Muggles believe in, isn't it?"

I hadn't heard him clearly. "What did you call me? A muckle? I don't know what that is. But no, science is not the only thing I believe in." Blah, my pleasure was quickly developing into irritation. Obviously my subconscious was developing a fantasy character of this mystery man, and the reality was quickly falling short. He certainly had an abrasive manner.

"Oh?" he said, skeptically, "So what do you believe in?"

What a question. Was I going to have discussions of philosophy with Darth on the beach? What did I believe in? Love? Not hardly. Destiny? God, I hoped not. God? I supposed so, but I didn't really want to delve into the messy territory of religion. I settled for the vague but obvious, "I believe in good and evil."

"Ah, an easy one," he replied sardonically. "Perhaps you _should_ stick with science."

I laughed out loud, liking him once again. "I think so," I agreed. "So confusing, good, evil, temptation, redemption. Ick." I sighed. This was bringing back thoughts I only wanted to dwell on alone.

"I can go," the man said, backing away a bit, but his voice was hesitant as if awaiting my dismissal.

"What's your name?" I asked, standing up. "Who are you?"

"My name? Severus. Severus Snape. I'm a professor at a school nearby. And you?"

"Lydia." I was unwilling to provide a last name.

"A pleasure to meet you Lydia," he said, in a warmer voice that just about buckled my knees. "Perhaps I'll see you again."

"Yes," I said. And then "Goodnight, Severus," as he left.


	4. Inappropriate Men

It was two weeks before I returned to the lake, much to my chagrin. Commitments, an out-of-town work assignment all conspired to keep me away. The side effect of this was that Professor Severus Snape had plenty of time to develop in my mind. I decided he probably taught theatre, possibly Shakespeare or something. That would explain his eccentric appearance, his tendency to be dramatic. He was probably a wannabe actor, stuck in the role of teacher.

I couldn't figure out why my mind kept turning back to him. Why did I always seem to be attracted to inappropriate men? I could and did, list the reasons against him. He was too old for me, he was too weird, I knew nothing about him, he was a loner and rather rude. He wasn't even good looking, but in his absence, I somehow imagined that his eyes, his lips were irresistible.

He did have that silky, dark voice, even if it was uttering barbed comments. I convinced myself that a little harmless banter would be okay. I wasn't even ready for "relationships" so what did it matter who I amused myself with in fantasy?

When I saw him again two weeks later, there on the beach in the evening again, my bubble burst a little. I'd forgotten that lank greasy-looking hair, and that nose. And the lines that aged his face seemed a little more harsh today. Suddenly, "I've missed you," seemed way too enthusiastic a comment, so I didn't say it. Neither did he. Of course not. This wasn't a relationship. An acquaintance. That's all. A bizarre kind of neighbor.

"Well, hello, Professor," I greeted him, followed by an awkward silence. I decided to test my theory.

"So you said you're a professor," I said chattily, "What do you teach? Theatre?"

He did that little eyebrow lift/sneer combination from his standard repertoire of derisive facial expressions, and said, "Your powers of intuition astound me."

"So am I right?" I asked smugly.

"What was your first clue?"

"Um, the cape? The drama? Your disdain for science?" I shrugged. "Take your pick." I was feeling very feisty. "Actually," I continued, "You know what, it was the cape. A dead giveaway. You'd have to be in theatre to go around wearing a cape."

"Of course," he smirked. "You can never go wrong judging by appearances."

His words cut me to the core. Of course he was being sarcastic about my comment on his cape. He had no way of knowing how badly I'd screwed up, judging by appearances. And here I was doing it again, even admitting to it, as he so succinctly pointed out.

"Will I ever stop making the same mistakes?" I mused.

I'd been talking more to myself, but since I'd spoken aloud, Snape replied, in his usual blunt fashion. "If your mistake is big enough you will."

"You'd think so." I said. "But apparently not."

He shot me a look. "Judging by appearances? That doesn't seem to be a very big mistake."

He was probing I could tell, for more of my story.

"A big mistake. Unforgiveable really. So you'd think I'd have learned something. But I've already lost. There's no way to make things right, bridges are burned. I guess I just have to try to move on, and get it right going forward. But I'm still fucking things up."

"It can't be that bad," he said, almost dismissively. But perhaps that was just a ploy to keep me talking.

"Do you really want to know the story?" I asked. "Do you really want to hear what a horrible twisted person I am?"

Well of course he said yes.

"I stole my sister's fiancée." I glanced up at the professor, excepting some look of shock, but his face was strangely pensive, and impassive.

I continued. "My younger sister, Adia. We never got along well. She was always more popular, prettier. Everything came easier to her. I felt like I was the oldest, I should be ahead. But I had to fight for everything that people would just bestow upon her. And then she got engaged before me. I had a boyfriend, Alan. Good guy. I'd known him my whole life practically. But he didn't want to ask me to get married until he could afford an engagement ring."

"Did he tell you that?" the professor asked.

"He said he couldn't even afford rent without five roommates, and I was still living with my parents, and that he needed to finish school first. We had more than one discussion about it. Fights actually, because I really didn't want my younger sister getting married before me. Especially since her guy was rich and gorgeous. Wealthy family, not a care in the world. At the very least I wanted to be flaunting my own diamond ring during all of her wedding planning and parties and everything."

"But Alan wouldn't or couldn't make it happen, so I ended up having to plaster on a smile and pretend to be happy for her."

"So you decided to seduce her fiancée?" Snape asked in disgust.

"I didn't decide to," I responded defensively. "It just happened. Everyone loved him—Rick. He was very charming, to everyone, especially women. I know I wasn't the only one he flirted with, but I managed to convince myself that he was my destiny. That my sister didn't deserve him, that he was my true love. That he didn't really love her at all. And maybe he didn't, but I was all too happy to be the one who swooped in and stole him away."

"We ended up eloping, before their wedding. We'd been having a lovers moment and Rick told me he didn't want to get married to Adia, that he'd been avoiding getting the marriage license because he just wasn't ready, and I told him 'you should get it for us. Get it today, I'll go with you.' And he did. We eloped that weekend, just a week before the wedding, talking about how romantic it was, how fate had brought us together. When we showed up on Monday, Adia was frantic, but relieved we were back. So naïve. While Rick broke the news to her, I packed bags as fast as I could from my room at my parents house. And then we took off."

I paused, waiting for some kind of reassurance, I suppose. I didn't get it, because Snape only said, "It is that bad then. Reprehensible in fact."

A wave of shame washed over me. "I rationalized it of course. I convinced myself that I was in love with Rick. That it was possible to be in love with two people, or that my love for Alan was childish. But that's not the truth. Honestly, I was jealous and resentful of Adia. Angry that my boyfriend was poor, struggling to succeed, prematurely bald. Wanting Rick not for love, but just because he was a beautiful blond muscular blue-eyed, rich man. I didn't want to be the unmarried one with the poor ugly boyfriend, while Adia waltzed about with her wealthy handsome husband."

"Pretty selfish. So how did it all work out?"

"Terribly. Oh, I thought I was happy at first. Rick and I bought a nice home, I was busy shopping and decorating. I figured the family would come around eventually, but that was a dream. My family wouldn't even take a call from me. Not even listen to an apology. Rick's family was less distant, but still cold. No surprise, Rick ended up cheating on me. We fought all the time, and I kept thinking about losing sweet, loving Alan and choosing this jerk instead. We divorced. Just a few months ago in fact."

"My worst regret is how I treated Alan. I really did love him, we'd been friends, soulmates. I'd always been happy with him, until Adia and Rick got engaged, and until Alan wouldn't succumb to my pressure to try to beat Adia to the altar. I hurt him, and I lost him forever. And my family too—they'll never forgive me."

Severus spoke slowly, "As long as they live, there's a chance."

"Perhaps. I tried. My mom, and sister wouldn't even listen. I went to Alan after my divorce. At least he didn't slam the door in my face. I cried, I apologized for treating him so horrendously. Told him I still loved him. He was so kind—as always. He didn't yell at me, or say anything harsh. He just said, "It's okay Lydia, I realize now that we weren't meant to be."

"And I realized that we were. So for all my plans to have it all, I ended up with nothing."

I glanced over at Severus, just to see how my new friend was taking in my story. He was looking in my direction, but his gaze was unfocused, as if he was lost in thought. I looked into his dark eyes, dismayed at the sadness I could see there.

"So there you have it," I said. "My sordid story."

"If it was easy to resist greed and power we'd all be good," Snape said, to my surprise. Was this a kind of compassion?

"I don't expect to be excused."

"Nor do I. But I know how appealing evil can be."

Something in his voice made me want to ask him to tell me more, but before I could, his face took on a look of anger, and he abruptly stood up, and bid me goodbye.

_She's a Muggle. And fickle, like all women. Whatever talent she might have for closing her mind at will, it's just what those Muggles call denial. She's not exceptional. She's weak, she chooses greed over loyalty. _

_I don't need this, her pathetic story. What, should I pour out my soul to her? Tell her that I also betrayed the one I love? So she can say, ooh, you're just like me, I'm not the only loathsome person in the world? _

_I need to find a new refuge, if she's going to keep haunting my shore._


	5. Consequences

I convinced myself that Professor Severus Snape was a harmless diversion. As summer ended, I still went through the motions of singlehood, hitting the bars and nightclubs, flirting, even occasionally dating. But I couldn't bring myself to think of anyone seriously. I couldn't imagine telling anyone the truth of my past like I had to Severus. Of course, it had been easy with him, because I had nothing to lose. Despite my irrational attraction to him, he was absolutely not a viable relationship option.

Often, I'd end a night out fantasizing about him, and desperate for him I'd plan to head to the shore the very next day. Fortunately for me, the reality of him, his bizarre attire, his melodramatic attitude, even blatant rudeness, quickly cooled my fire. I'd wake in the morning, sober, and sensible and decide I didn't need to seek him out.

But the mystery, the shadow in his eyes, the slight hint of a smile that I imagined I seen cross his lips, and my memory of his voice, would ignite a new spark in me whenever I was lonely, and finally I decided to spend a weekend at the beach again.

It had been almost a month, the grasses on the dunes were getting dull and dry in the crisp autumn air, and I wondered, if I'd even see him, or if he was a summer visitor only. As I arrived, I saw him in the distance walking from the other direction. I wondered vaguely where he'd come from. He hesitated briefly when he saw me, but then continued towards me.

"Hello, Professor," I greeted him.

"Don't call me Professor," he commanded. "You're not a student."

That's what I meant about reality cooling my desire. It was just the sneering derisive way he said it. As if I was the merest worm of a person too stupid to ever be a student. So good, very good. Mission accomplished, I could now get over these ludicrous fantasies.

"What should I call you?" I asked, a little belligerence in my tone.

He seemed taken aback at this, as if he hadn't anticipated the question, and he responded grudgingly, "Call me Severus."

"So tell me Severus, what is this school where you teach?"

"Oh, it's very exclusive," he answered vaguely.

"Ah. Is that code for "spoiled brats?"

There it was! That flicker of a smile, only slightly different from his customary smirk. Why tantalize me like this? Look out, girl, the ludicrous fantasies are on their way back.

"Some of them are." Then his face grew serious again. "And I'm supposed to mold them, to guide them, protect them even. Intolerable really."

"I'm sure you're up to the challenge," I said, hoping to tempt that heart-melting ghost of a smile back with flattery.

"Indeed." He replied with satisfaction, but no smile. Apparently he had an ego that accepted flattery as mere statement of fact. Fantasies retreating? Maybe? Please?

"Have you been there long?" I asked. Perhaps hoping to get a clue to his age. His hair was dark, and full, his body lithe, but the lines deeply etched into his face and eyes, seemed indicative of a long hard life. He surely wasn't a sun worshipper and I didn't get a whiff of smoker from him.

"Too long. Forever it seems," he said slowly, thoughtfully.

"Tragic," I replied impulsively, sarcastically, in response to his melodrama. I'm sure I even added a bit of an eye-roll. I mean what was up with this guy and his melodrama and mystery?"

"So after the mistakes of your past, you're still not sympathetic to the misfortunes of others?" he asked bitingly, but didn't wait for me to respond. "Neither am I. I've accepted the consequences of my actions. I see no reason why others shouldn't be punished for their misdeeds."

"Who?" I asked amused, "Your students? How old are they anyway?"

"Prepubescent blights of humanity, ages eleven to eighteen, each group worse than the last."

I laughed aloud. "Why do it then?"

"Consequences," he answered shortly.

"Of what," I asked, burning with curiosity now, but there he was stalking off, leaving me wanting more.


	6. Fear and Pity

I came back the very next day, intending to delve some more into his mystery, but to my dismay Severus wasn't there. I'd gotten so used to seeing him. Somehow I imagined that he was a frequent visitor to the shore. Now that I thought about it, it was peculiar that he was always there whenever I went. I wondered if he could see me arrive at the beginning of my hike. I scanned the shoreline. Even if he was in one of those houses, with a telescope, he never came from that direction. He always seemed to come from the other way, where there were no buildings. I wondered if there was a house, somehow secluded high on those hills.

At any rate, he wasn't here today. I sat on the sand restlessly watching the water, trying not to look over my shoulder every few minutes. I should be relieved that he's not stalking me, I thought. That would be the reasonable reaction. Not sitting here tapping my foot like I've been stood up on a date. I'd been so confident of seeing him, I had only brought with me a bottle of water. No book to read. No swimsuit—although the weather was too cool for swimming anyway.

I sighed, reluctant to begin the hike back across the dunes. The sun was warm on my face, and I decided to lay on the sand awhile and at least pretend I'd come here for the joys of nature.

I must have dozed off, because suddenly I was waking with a shout, and with adrenaline coursing through my blood, looking around for the presence of a stranger intruding on me. As I realized that no one was there, I caught my breath, and felt the pounding of my heart return to normal. It was time to leave.

As I began to climb the bluff, I saw Severus appear over the top. The fear I'd felt upon waking was still eating at me, and seeing him hovering over me made me very nervous. Perhaps he was stalking me after all. How long had he been there, I wondered.

He stood there staring at me, unspeaking, arms crossed, as I climbed up. It was very disconcerting, and I felt a strong desire to get away from him. No more burning curiosity about his "consequences." The saying "curiosity killed the cat," crossed my mind, causing me a nasty shudder at the word "killed".

I tried to hide my fears, and speak naturally to him as I reached the top. "Time for me to leave," I said. "You have a nice day, now." I didn't stop—I just began to walk briskly down the path.

To my alarm, Severus began walking alongside of me. I tried to think strategically. I just needed to stay calm, try to distract him, until we were closer to the parking lot, and then maybe I could outrun him, scream for help if need be.

Suddenly he spoke. "Do you believe people can have psychic abilities?" he asked.

Damn his voice. How could he do that to me? From fear to lust in about three seconds. Focus, I told myself. He probably was trying to suggest that he "psychically" knew when to find me, when he really was stalking me. Keep him talking, I thought. And be ready to run.

"I don't know," I answered. "I think some people are very attentive to detail and maybe can read people's faces. But it's all a con-game. Give people vague advice, figure out what they want to hear and say it, collect your payment."

"So you don't think you have any special abilities?"

"Hell, no!" I replied emphatically, with an incredulous laugh. "Do you think if I had any kind of psychic powers, I would have screwed up my own life, my own future so badly?"

"Yes, I believe that's true," he mused. "Although, you've hardly screwed up your life. You betrayed people you loved. They haven't forgiven you. But when it comes right down to it, they're alive and well, and so are you."

Somehow I knew this was the key to his dark secret. I almost didn't want to ask, but I thought it best to keep him talking. "And what about your people," I asked. "Are they alive and well?"

I held my breath inadvertently as I awaited his answer.

"No," he said flatly. "Thanks to me, no, they are not."

Another shiver of fear ran through me, but then I looked at Severus' face. To my surprise, I saw only sadness. I felt ashamed at misjudging him, thinking of myself as a victim, when perhaps he was only looking for a friend.

"Tell me," I said gently. "What happened?"

"I loved a woman, she loved someone else," he said tersely, his face hardening into an angry scowl again. "It's a classic story. You know it well, I'm sure."

Well, that hurt. "Yes, yes, I'm the bitch, I know," I said sulkily. I guess this explained why he was so rude to me. This woman must have treated him badly, as I had done to Alan. "I was heartless to Alan, but I can't undo it. The only thing I can do now is hope for the best for him. He'll find love. He deserves it. From someone better than me."

"It's nice that you can feel that way," Severus said, insincerely. "I, however, wasn't quite so forgiving."

Oh great, was this where he was going to tell me that he slayed them both in a crime of passion? Why did I let myself get into this?

"It's too late now," he continued, "to make things right. To be forgiven."

"What happened to her?" I asked, apprehensively.

He hesitated, then said. "House fire. I could have saved her, if I'd really tried. At one time, I would have done anything for her, but when it really mattered, I didn't. I didn't want to help her husband too, and by the time I came to my senses, I was too late, too wrong, too far gone. Now, the only thing I can do is look out for her son."

"Is he one of your students?" I asked, sensing I was right.

"Yes. No comfort to me. Or even to Lily, I suspect. And the boy, Harry, has too much of his insufferable father in him."

"His father. Not you."

"Not me. No. I loved Lily, from childhood, and I do think she loved me, in her way. But in the end, she chose him. Arrogant James and his devoted friends."

"I take it his friends were no friends of yours?"

He shook his head, and I felt a flash of insight.

"They ganged up on you?" I guessed, and could see by his face I was right.

"I didn't expect her to defend me. I could defend myself. I expected her to choose me, and reject them—reject _him_. And when she didn't—I lashed out at her in anger. She never forgave me for that. After that, I was more focused than ever, on excelling. I would be on top, be powerful, and make them all regret it someday." He shook his head at his own words, and sadness filled his eyes again. "Now I'm the only one left to regret it."

I almost wanted to hug him, but then I realized we were almost to the parking lot. And I hadn't even made a run for it. I was relieved that Severus' story was only tragic, and not horrifying. But it was sad too. I felt awkward, like I should say something before I left, but Severus, who never had trouble making an exit, had already turned back and was walking the other way.

_Why did I tell her anything? I'm the one with the power. I peered into her mind when she was sleeping, and there's nothing there except a nauseating stew of emotions. No powers, no abilities. She doesn't even truly practice Occlumency. It's just thick-headedness or dumb luck that keeps her thoughts secret. So it's only my own foolishness in allowing her to affect me. _

_Of course I have needs, I am still a man, but a Muggle? And now, after all this time? After being loyal to Lily since the day she died? Perhaps that's been my mistake. Maybe I should have continued as I had after Lily married that bastard James. Having my way with women who desired my power and protection. Perhaps that was never disloyal. It's not like I even remembered their names, or anything other than the emptiness and disgust I felt after I was done with them. _

_Lydia. How can she close her mind like that? What if she's being used by someone, the way that idiot Quirrel was. It would be best to find out. Keep enemies close. And of course, resist._


	7. All In My Head

I had expected after Severus opened up to me about Lily, that perhaps our friendship would grow closer. Instead, the next few times I met him at the lake, he was cold, distant, and often would only speak to me for a few moments before leaving. As the days grew cooler, my trips to the shore grew more infrequent. I still thought about Severus, the sad story of his lost love and his lifetime of regret, but knew I needed to be careful not to mistake pity for something more. I knew I needed to do better than him, if possible. I wanted to believe that I'd be deserving of true love someday. In the meantime, harmless diversion, was fine, but I wasn't going to go out of my way.

It had been almost four months. I didn't miss him at all. Well, maybe a little, but I was busy with work, and if I didn't date that frequently, it was only because I was being cautious, looking for someone with character, who would be worth the risk of telling him my story. If I hadn't found someone like that yet, well, I'd have to keep looking.

And then, I heard about Alan's wedding. Okay, I'll admit it, I heard it from Alan, because I called him one day when I was feeling pathetically lonely, thinking that the reason I couldn't find someone suitable, the reason I obsessively fantasized about a certain caped loner, was because I'd lost the only one who was meant for me.

Thank God, Alan sprung the news on me before I had a chance to plead with him again. I'd just said hello, and asked conventionally, "How are you?" and without much delay, he said "Wonderful. I'm getting married in a week."

Over the sound of my heart thunking to the floor, I managed to stammer some congratulations, inquire politely about his bride-to-be and their plans and get off the phone before I started sobbing. Several hours and boxes of tissues later, I was beginning to formulate a plot to get him back.

Thankfully, several days and pages of journaling later, I'd come to my senses. What I'd done to Alan was unforgivable, I didn't deserve him, and the least I could do was to let him enjoy his happiness now. But when that Saturday arrived, I knew I needed to be far away from Alan and impulsive wedding-crashing disaster scenes.

I went to the cottage, and of course, I made my trek to the beach. Late March is not a delightful time to be hiking over sand dunes with the damp winds whipping sand into my face. I didn't hold out much hope of seeing Severus either, and even if I did, it would probably be awkward, as usual. And I'd have to be careful not to throw myself at him, as if he were some sort of consolation prize. Not that he'd even have me, but then again, I didn't want him, really, did I? But what were the chances he'd be there, anyway?

He wasn't. I sat down on the sand where it was still dry, close to the bluff, and took a few deep breaths of the cold wind. Then I tucked my head down into the collar of my jacket and gave in to a good cry. I was face in hands, shaking and sobbing, telling myself I was doing the right thing now, with no consolation."

"Are you all right?" came that lovely voice.

I looked up at Severus, at his face looking not exactly concerned, but at least untainted by scorn. I wanted to rush into his arms and cry on his shoulder.

I didn't, because, let's face it, I knew he wasn't that kind of man. He'd probably hold me off at arm's length and tell me to accept the consequences of my actions.

"Alan's getting married. Right now, probably." I glanced at my wrist for the watch I wasn't wearing. "I'm happy for him," I sniffed bravely. "But I figured I'd better come here just so I don't do something stupid like sabotage his wedding."

"Wise decision," Severus said. I felt awkward sitting there on the sand as he loomed over me, but I didn't want to stand for fear I'd do that crying-on-shoulder move in spite of my better judgment. As I sat musing over this dilemma, Severus abruptly and uncharacteristically sat down beside me. I shot him a glance in surprise. He was looking at me with a questioning look also.

"So you came here today to escape."

"Yes," I agreed.

"Me too," he said.

"Not really any other reason to come to the beach in March," I added.

He was staring at me. I could feel the intensity of his gaze. "When were you here last?" he asked.

"Sometime in October, I think. Maybe early November." I replied. "Why?"

Why was he staring at me? I could feel myself beginning to blush. It was as if he were trying to read my mind, and heaven knows I didn't want to him read the parts where I used him to liven my libido.

"The last time I was here, you were too. Early November," he said, with a meaningful tone.

What was he trying to tell me? I was feeling confused.

"Since the first time I met you here, every time I've come to this place, you've been here. It's been months since I came, I thought I was done with you. And then today, I felt I needed the air, the peace. I was not expecting to see you. But here you are."

My confusion intensified and I got a little paranoid too. Did this mean he was stalking me?

"I'm not stalking you," he said.

Was he reading my mind, I thought, feeling panicky. And then I heard him respond, "Yes," with a voice that I knew was in my head.

I stared at him, and could see clearly that he wasn't speaking, as I heard him clearly thinking to me, "and you're reading mine."

In shock, horror, I stood up, willing my mind to resist this craziness. It had to be madness. Sane people didn't hear voices in their heads. Perhaps this was all a figment of my imagination. Or perhaps this man was stalking me, and now playing tricks on me.

He stood up too, and reached for my hand. It was the first time we'd touched, but instead of being overcome by lust, I was oblivious to everything except my whirling fears. "Just because you can't understand or explain it doesn't mean it's wrong," he said. "Perhaps there's a reason. Perhaps this is meant to be, us meeting like this. I'm sure I don't understand it either."

_I don't. She's a Muggle, and Lily, my love, I don't have time for this, I have to avenge you, take care of your boy.. _

It seemed he realized I was reading his thoughts again, and he deliberately hid them from me and continued speaking aloud. "There is a connection between us. You must feel it too."

I slowly nodded an agreement, but my mind was churning over other possibilities. Like the possibility that I was insane, and that Severus didn't even exist, that this all was in my head. It seemed plausible enough, after all, I'd never been with other people when I saw him.

"You're not insane," he said.

"Stop it!" I snapped, finally yanking my hand away from his. "You have no business in my thoughts!"

"You're the one who can stop it," he advised me.

I didn't know how I did it, but I realized I was blocking my thoughts.

"You shouldn't be able to, but you can," he continued.

"I shouldn't be able to?" I asked incredulously. "Really? Which part? Read minds, have my mind read, or prevent it?"

"Any of it. Have you ever experienced this before?"

"No!" I said emphatically. "And I'm not experiencing it now. I won't. This is madness." It was—it must be. The emotional trauma of Alan's wedding must have pushed me over the edge. That was the only explanation. I felt a little relief thinking this. Severus might be real, it was just today that was an illusion. "You're not really here," I said forcefully to Severus, watching to see if he'd disappear like a dream.

He didn't. Instead he gently said, "This really frightens you doesn't it?"

"Are you _trying_ to frighten me?" I demanded. "Well, fuck you!" I started crying, all the distraught feelings overwhelming me. I was already upset about losing Alan, and now I was confronted with the disturbing fact that the man I'd been fantasizing about was a lunatic. Or worse, that I was.

Like a lunatic, I continued to yell "fuck you," at Severus as I ran off crying.


	8. Connection

It was almost summer before I dared to return to the lake again, and even then, I brought a friend with me, a girl I worked with, Taima. I'd had time to reflect, to analyze my behavior, and to feel mostly reassured that I was not crazy. Perhaps I'd just had a bad day, or perhaps Severus had for some bizarre reason, felt the need to play some kind of theatrical prank on me. Even that made no sense. I must have just imagined the whole thing.

But even if his voice wasn't literally in my head, I hadn't been able to put the man out of my mind. You wouldn't believe the frenzy of activities I threw myself into, trying to avoid having a moment of free time. Because every time I did, my thoughts headed back to him. Stopped at a traffic signal, thinking, "what if we do have a psychic connection?" Before drifting off to sleep wishing he'd hold my hand again.

I realized that I'd never have any peace of mind, unless I allowed myself to seek answers. And the first question I needed answered was: Is he real?

I chose Taima because she was an energetic type who loved running, and fitness of any sort. She was happily enthusiastic about a hike and a swim. Taima's other excellent quality was that she had very little patience with men, or with relationship conflicts. She wouldn't hesitate to tell me Severus was a jerk and that I should stay away from him. I was relying on her voice of reason.

We arrived at the secluded beach, which Taima praised heartily, and began our swim. Severus was nowhere to be seen, and my apprehension about my sanity started to nag at me again. I kept hoping he'd show up, just let me have a witness at least to his existence. If I could at least have that, I could perhaps try to forget about the mind games, and move on.

So when Taima quietly muttered to me, "Who is _that_?" I knew exactly who she saw. But I looked and responded casually, "Oh, that guy. He walks around here sometimes. A bit weird, but harmless."

Even at a distance, I could see that Severus was upset as he watched us in the water. And then suddenly there it was, his voice, snarling in my head, _You shouldn't have come back. And why would you bring someone else? This place isn't safe anymore. You need to leave._

I didn't understand it, but at least I knew I wasn't imagining the man, and so I was angry at him for whatever method he was using to intrude on my mind. I forced his voice out of me, and began to march angrily towards him. It was somewhat difficult to march angrily in waist deep water, but I stormily pushed on, splashing out on the shore and stomping over to him.

"Stop it," I hissed at him. "I don't know what you're doing, but stop it."

"You're right. This needs to end," he agreed. "It isn't safe anymore. You need to stop coming here."

"What right do you have to tell me where I can and cannot go?" I began to protest, as Taima approached us.

"I can tell you," he said, including her in his gaze, "That I have permission to be here. And you. Do not."

I felt embarrassed at being accused of trespassing in front of my friend, annoyed that he'd never said anything like this to me when I was alone. "Well, maybe you should have mentioned that the first time you saw me here," I fumed. "And saved us both a lot of trouble."

"We can leave," Taima said, diplomatically. "We can just go to the park, the public beach." She nodded at me encouraging me to be reasonable.

_There's something I need to know before I can let you leave._ Severus' voice growled ominously in my ears, making me cringe and melt at the same time. I relented, and responded to him in thought, _What?_

_I need you to open your mind to me. I need to know I can trust you. _

Trust me? This was unbelievable. He wanted to know if he could trust me? How about if I could trust him?

"Come on," said Taima.

"Give us a minute," I told her. She looked at me in confusion, but then moved away, watching warily as Severus and I stared at one another. I made my decision. If this was all an illusion anyway, then "opening my mind" was meaningless. And if it was a strange new reality?

_I have nothing to be ashamed of, _I thought. _You know the worst of me already. _I gazed into his eyes, and let down my resistance.

Whatever doubts I'd had before that this was all in my imagination, quickly vanished. I'm not even sure how to explain the experience. It was like when you doze off for a moment, but somehow seem to have an hour of dreams. I could feel my thoughts buzzing through my mind as Severus shuffled through them. And even more amazingly, I could feel his reactions to them.

He was irked as he saw my sarcastic disparaging thoughts about his hair and his attire, irritated at my remorse over Alan, indifferent about my work and my friends. And then he began to touch on the thoughts I kept most hidden, my fantasies of him. I began to regret my decision, but before I decided to shut him out, I felt a rush of pleasure from him. It felt beautiful, like watching a good friend open the perfect gift. It made me want to fling all my loving, passionate thoughts at him. As I did, I felt his longing desire.

And then without warning he stopped. "You can go now," he said. "Remember what I said. It's not safe here."

I was stunned. I believed in this amazing connection between us now. It wasn't imagination, or insanity or a trick. But was he telling me it didn't matter? To forget about it? I wanted to run after him as he walked away, but Taima was calling to me.

"Lydia. Lydia. What's going on? Are we going?"

She questioned me on the way back. All I told her was, "We've talked before. He's alright. He's just a character. He must be having a bad day. He'll get over it."

_Why was this happening? And now of all times? At least I'd learned of Lydia's sincerity, that she was no threat to me. Her thoughts had been completely open, the good and the bad, all the conflicting mess of feelings. Fear and repulsion, regret, attraction, desire, pity, jealousy, lust, passion, even love. But not a drop of hatred or duplicity. It was so enticing, all this for me. But I had to resist it. I was a spy now. I had no time for games of passion._


	9. Destiny

I didn't speak of Severus to Taima again that weekend. I didn't stop thinking about him. And I certainly didn't plan to stay away from him like he'd commanded.

I had no rational explanation for the mind-reading between us, except to choose to trust fate, which had apparently drawn us together. I felt such clarity now, about my feelings for Severus, confidence that loving him was my destiny. I'd never believed in destiny before. I'd pretended to, when it suited my ambitions, but I hadn't even believed enough to stay true to Alan.

Severus was my destiny. I was sure of it. The inexplicable way we always knew when to meet at the lake, the connection of our minds, my attraction to him despite better judgment and outward appearances. All clues, bringing us inevitably together. Perhaps all the mistakes of my past were just preparing me for this.

Weekend after weekend I returned to the lake. Time after time, I waited there alone, reassuring myself of my belief in destiny. Imagining scenes of being reunited with Severus, loving embraces, heartfelt explanations of circumstances unknown that had kept us apart, until that very moment.

Finally though, trudging back to the parking lot one rainy October day, I decided Severus, and destiny, would have to find me somewhere other than at the lake. I felt bereft, even though in reality I was no worse off than before. It wasn't as if Severus and I had ever had a real relationship. Time to rejoin society, I thought, and save Severus for my dreams.

_I knew Lydia wouldn't obey me when I told her to stay away. It would have to be up to me to keep us apart. _

_By now, I could clearly recognize the pull I felt whenever she was at the lake. I worried that it would beckon me at times when I needed to keep my mind focused, but so far, I'd been lucky. And if my plan worked, she'd soon be giving up. _

_I watched her, primarily to ensure her safety. But also because, when I felt that force drawing me towards her, I was useless until I saw her. I watched from behind the boundary of enchantment that kept Hogwarts hidden from Muggle eyes. I didn't dare attempt Legilimency, for I knew she would be aware of me. At times, I was tempted, when it seemed she was giving in to tears. But I held firm. I knew if Lydia hadn't seen me by the time the cold weather began, she'd stop coming. And eventually, perhaps, she'd give up entirely._

_The whole situation vexed me. I almost wished Lydia hadn't opened her mind to me so willingly. The overwhelming sense of attraction, and even genuine affection that she felt for me, in spite of her fears and misgivings, was something I hadn't felt since my childhood. Since the days when Lily had been my true friend, before other friendships and loyalties began to divide us. It had been so long since I felt like this, I hadn't imagined or hoped I ever would again. But now, I confess, I felt resentful, that this sweetness was dangled before me now, at a time when I once again had to choose sides, opposing forces demanding my loyalty. _

It was a strange kind of loneliness I felt that winter. I'd always gone through lengths of time without seeing Severus. But that was when the obstacles to him were of my own design. My own reservations, my own fears, my own reluctance. Now, I'd discarded my objections, given in fully to an acceptance of some kind of destiny for us. And I was helpless to do anything but wait.

It took me a while to admit I was helpless. I did all I could to try to track down Severus, the old-fashioned way, via the Internet. I even _paid_ a couple of those websites that promised they could get all the dirt on your person of interest. Nothing. Why was I surprised? Severus Snape? It even sounded made-up. It was probably his stage name or something.

I searched the faculty rosters of prep schools, schools for the Arts. I pored over playbills from theatre stages from amateur to professional, studying the head shots of the performers as if I wouldn't have recognized Severus' face instantly. As if he was lurking within one of those smiling polished posed faces.

I know my search for Severus might sound like an obsession, but honestly, it was more like a hobby—something I did in my spare time. I had a peaceful feeling of certainty that I would see him again, when the time was right.

Finally, at the beginning of April, I felt a compelling desire deep within in me to return to the lake. This had to be the right time—I could feel it. I eagerly anticipated the weekend, and that Saturday morning, packed a picnic lunch I intended to share with Severus. I chose the items without too much thought, but when I took one last look in the picnic cooler, I realized I'd packed the kind of food lovers feed to each other in movies. Strawberries, cheese, crusty slices of French bread, olives and chocolates. I had to laugh at myself. At least I hadn't included whipped cream and champagne.

When I reached the lake, and saw Severus standing there, I gave into impulse, and ran towards him, expecting to throw myself into his arms, or at the very least exchange a friendly embrace. But he stood there stiffly as I ran to him, and I ended up giving him a quick, awkward one-armed hug around his waist.

But then, he took my hand in his cool fingers and said kindly, "Hello, Lydia. You came."

I looked eagerly at his face, and was shocked to see how much it seemed he had aged. His eyes were shadowed, his face deeply lined. I realized it had been almost a year since I'd seen him last. "How are you?" I asked, concerned.

Severus shook his head. "I _have_ missed you," he said, as if it had just occurred to him. But that half-hearted expression of his feeling was like a love song to my ears.

"Do you have some time?" I asked. "I brought some lunch for us." I remembered that first day we'd met, when I'd rather rudely told him I didn't have enough to share, and he'd haughtily replied, "I don't want your lunch."

"I'd like that," he said today, "Thank you."

I spread my beach towel on the sand, and we sat down. I began laying out the food, and Severus unwrapped a piece of chocolate. He ate it with a distant look in his eyes, and then turned to me, with a fleeting smile said, "This is nice."

I decided to try the mind reading. I looked at him and thought, "It's good to see you." I felt a flicker of a reaction from him, and then nothing.

"Thank you," he said aloud. "But let's just talk today. I've a lot on my mind, and I'm not sure I could keep from burdening you with it all."

"I don't mind," I said. "What's wrong? You look. . ." I hesitated, searching for a tactful word. Awful? Haggard? I settled for "worried."

"I've had a bad week."

"Just one?" I asked doubtfully.

He gave a short wry laugh at that, and replied, "More than one. You are correct."

"Strawberries?" I offered. He took one. "Tell me about it," I said. "If you like."

"It's that boy, Potter."

"Who?" I asked.

"Harry Potter. Lily's boy."

"Oh, yes. What happened?"

"What happened is that he's growing up to be a deceitful, stubborn, arrogant . . ." he stopped. "I keep thinking it was a mistake to promise to look out for him."

"How old is he now?"

"Fifteen."

"Oh, that's the worst age for boys. He'll outgrow it I'm sure. Don't give up on him. I'm sure he'll appreciate it one day."

Severus shot me the most incredulous look I'd ever seen. "I don't think you appreciate the depth of the situation. I've been assigned to tutor the boy in advanced subject matter, and he's failing at it miserably. And his failure reflects on me."

"What subject?" I questioned.

Severus seemed annoyed. "Does it matter? I've already terminated his lessons, even though it means I'm a failure as a teacher. But I'm afraid if I spend any more time dealing with his obstinate ways, I'll end up harming him myself."

I laughed.

"I'm serious," Severus said. "My dislike for the boy is too profound. When I made that promise to watch out for him, I believed I'd be able to change. But now I wonder if I'll ever find my better nature. Or if I'm doomed to repeat the mistakes of my past. He brings out the worst in me. I find myself wanting to go back to things I thought I'd left behind me long ago."

"But you don't have to repeat your mistakes," I protested. "Your better nature is right there within you. Right now. I can tell that you care, that you want to do the right thing. Don't give up on yourself."

"This is why I needed to see you," Severus said, looking into my eyes. My mind was open, I even thought out towards him, I'm here for you, but he held back. "I wish I could be with you more," he said. "But I have a challenge in front of me that I have to face on my own. I don't know how long it will take, but we must be apart. I need to keep my mind clear."

I thought, he must be going into some kind of treatment. Rehab for drug addiction. Or perhaps he's struggling with a mental illness. These thoughts didn't frighten me away from him though. That feeling of destiny, and the feelings of attraction I felt for him, were powerful. "I won't give up on you," I told him.

Severus' face relaxed, and he reached for my hand. Oh, beautiful touch. "You knew to come here today." He said. "How?"

"I just knew," I said happily. He was holding my hand, and I moved closer to him.

"Wait for that," he said. "Don't seek me out. I'll see you when it's safe for me to do so."

I could accept that. I could. I could wait for him to overcome his challenges. But I just wanted something more to carry me through the waiting.

"I'm selfish," he was saying. "looking for solace from you when the only thing I have to offer in return is to shield you from my . . . demons."

"I think you can offer me something," I said, trying to sound suggestive, reaching out to hold both of his hands, trembling with anticipation at what I was about to do.

As I moved towards him, he shifted. My kiss landed innocently on his cheek. But my passions flared even more intensely.

Because Severus smiled.


	10. Seducing Severus

It could have been agonizing, waiting for Severus, without any conventional methods of communication to bridge the gaps. But instead it was refreshingly freeing. I wasn't waiting in vain for a phone call, or expecting a date for Saturday night. Instead, I was just waiting for my heart to let me know when. And while I waited, Severus was perfect. I imagined him in my bedroom, wearing a loose fitting shirt, tight black pants, and boots. His hair just a little more lustrous, his face a little less care-worn. His eyes, his lips, those were perfect already. And his hands, firmly caressing me. Voice whispering words of love.

No wonder, by the time I saw him again, several weeks later, I was bound and determined to introduce more physical affection to our encounters. When we met, I embraced him without hesitation, and although the hug and kiss we shared would have passed as casual greeting in many social circles, it was a leap ahead for Severus and me.

We sat on the sand beside each other and once again, I opened my mind to Severus, and felt that burst of happiness from him. And once again, he abruptly broke the connection.

"You have lovely thoughts, Lydia," he said kindly, "but you're better off without me in them."

I knew he meant for whatever reason, he didn't want to read my mind, but I was intent on flirtation, so I said teasingly, "Not at all. You're in my thoughts all the time. And I'm absolutely better off for it. I always have a smile on my face now. My co-workers tease me about my new lover. I just call you "my mystery man."

Severus gave a fleeting smile. "I've been called worse."

I laughed heartily, and said, "I love a man who makes me laugh. Especially when it's so unexpected."

Severus was smiling along with my laughter, and it was so sweet to see. "It's so nice to see you smile," I said. "I wish I could make that happen more often."

"That's why I come here," he replied. "I need to know there's at least one thing good in life."

Smiles were over, he was musing among his "demons" again, I could tell. "How are the challenges going that you spoke of?" I asked.

"Well enough. I'm doing what's asked of me. I have no idea if it will prove to be worthwhile." Then his face darkened. "I hate that most of all. If I could only be certain of the outcome." He sighed. "The difference between good and evil is quite clear. It's the difference between right and wrong that can be so complex."

"Does it sound too cliché to say, follow your heart?" I asked.

"My heart," he scoffed. "Perhaps it still works," he said caustically.

"Let me check," I said. I put my ear to his chest, pushing him down towards the sand. His strong hands grasped me, but instead of pulling me to him, he pushed me away.

"Not now, Lydia, not now," was all he said.

After that day, I was more determined than ever to seduce Severus. I liked the sound of that. Seducing Severus. That summer was so much fun for me. Whatever challenges he was experiencing never kept us apart from each other for more than a few weeks. While I was waiting, I amused myself thinking of suggestive things to say, excuses to touch him. I occupied my free time shopping for bathing suits and exercising diligently so that I would look and feel sexy.

Severus seemed determined to play the part of the gentleman. But as the days grew warmer, he became more relaxed and would sit on the beach watching me swim, barefoot in his rolled up pants, and white shirt. I liked seeing him so casual, like a different man. I liked too, watching him meticulously re-costume himself when we left. Still slightly vulnerable, as he unrolled his pant legs, put on socks and shoes. Then he would put on his jacket and as he buttoned each of the many buttons, I could see the haughty bearing and fierce demeanor reappearing. Finally he'd swing that cloak around his shoulders and glare balefully off into the distance, as if looking at something he loathed. It was so arousing seeing both sides of him like this.

Sometimes he'd fall into a mood, and complain about the struggles of life, but most of the time he'd simply listen attentively as I chattered about myself. What music I liked, who annoyed me at work, things that made me laugh. Despite our growing friendship, Severus was reluctant to explore the connection between our minds again. When I tried to speak of it to him, he just said, "It's too difficult for me now." I wondered if he was afraid of this strange power. If, like I had, he thought he was going crazy.

Late that summer, Severus' bleak moods seemed to overtake him. Every time we met he was sullen, tense. All summer long he'd been gently fending off my advances, subtly slipping his hand out from mine, or firmly holding me at arm's length. But now he became more abrupt, his words curt. I worried that something was changing in his feelings for me. I worried too about the approach of autumn. He'd be returning to teaching, and I was sad to think that perhaps our budding summer romance would be at an end. I knew he was resisting my attempts at seduction, I knew I should back off, let him pursue me, but I couldn't help myself. I felt desperately that he was slipping away from me.

It seemed like he was scowling all the time now, but I finally found a moment while we were eating lunch again one day. He'd just finished a piece of chocolate which always seemed to put him in a better mood. "I just love that you have a sweet tooth," I said, grinning, and got in exchange a weak half-smile from him.

Encouraged by this, I spoke of my fears, "Summer's almost over. I'm going to miss this when winter comes. Do you think we can find another place to meet?"

Instantly his face twisted into irritation, "Isn't there anyone who doesn't want to make demands of me?" he stormed.

In spite of myself, my eyes welled up with angry tears at his outburst. "So sorry to inconvenience you," I said haughtily. I stood up in anger, not wanting to be near him, not wanting him to witness my hurt and sadness. "I'll just graciously remove myself from your presence," I said sarcastically as I began to walk away.

But he was jumping up and came to me quickly. "Lydia, wait," he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me to him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

My heart melted as I looked into his eyes and saw a sadness there at least as great as mine. "What's wrong with you?" I asked. "Why are you acting this way?"

Then he roughly pulled me even closer and kissed me, fiercely, passionately. I was aware of his hands holding me, one entwined in my hair, the other at my back, as he pulled my whole body into himself. I could feel his arousal, and the kiss—the kiss was forceful, but his mouth, his lips, were warm, soft, generous, his tongue so gentle as it touched mine. I responded willingly, reaching my own hands to his face, and hair, yes even his unbecoming hair, I loved it at that moment. And then just as I began to feel that I couldn't resist the longing between my legs that made me want to wrap myself around him, I sensed he was opening up again, to the connection of our minds. I could feel him drinking in my thoughts. I felt his sadness at my anger and hurt, and then seeing I had already forgiven him, a rush of joy. And then suddenly, I was clearly hearing his own thoughts again, _Lily, Lily, why couldn't __you__?_

Disappointment stabbed through me, quickly followed by the same feeling from Severus, and then the connection between us broke. He took a step back from me, looking stricken. "Lydia, please."

I didn't speak. He was still in love with her. In love with a dead woman who could never forgive him, never release him, never comfort him. I was destroyed. Overwhelming sadness hit me, and seemed to wash back over the whole summer, re-painting it with a shade of bleakness that covered up the happiness I thought I'd had.

I tried not to be harsh. I'd felt the strength of his feelings, both for me and for Lily. But I couldn't escape the feeling of jealousy rising up in my throat, or the tears stinging my eyes again. "Please," Severus said again.

"It's all right," I said voice trembling. "I understand. You wouldn't be the man you are, if you could forget her easily."

It took all my effort to sound so gracious and understanding. I gathered up my things quickly, and hurried away, not even daring to wonder when I'd see Severus again.

_Is there no end to what's expected of me? What started out as one promise has only resulted in more and more promises exacted from me. Even the Unbreakable Vow. How far must I go to play my part? I began doing this for you Lily. All I ever wanted was your forgiveness. But now, I wonder if Dumbledore is using my need for redemption to make me a pawn in his own game. _

_Lily, I promised to protect your boy. I will. But I don't know how much more I can promise. I thought of you, when I spoke harshly to Lydia and she started to leave. It felt like I was reliving that day when I lost your friendship. And then she forgave me, so easily, so readily. But I can't even dare to tell her the truth about me. _

_Truth. What truth? I'm steeped in lies every day. Lying to the Dark Lord, lying to the members of the Order. Lying to Lydia, to myself even, when I tell myself I don't need her. I'm even keeping her a secret from Dumbledore. I'm sure he'd only tell me to give her up. He'd be right, too. If she were to learn the truth it would only put her in danger. I need to detach, resist the temptation to penetrate her thoughts, so that I don't inadvertently give her access to my mind. _


	11. Secrets

Maybe I overreacted, running off like that, but no woman wants to hear the man she's kissing saying another woman's name. Even if he's only thinking it. As usual, whenever it seemed like I'd gotten a little closer to Severus, he responded by backing away. My reaction had probably only made it worse. The weeks dragged by without any feeling on my part that he was looking for me. I decided stubbornly that I would do as Severus had commanded, and wait until I felt that draw, pulling me to meet him.

As I reflected on the situation, I knew I didn't want to blame Severus. He'd been living for years with the pain of unrequited love and Lily's death. It was easy to think, "just get over her," but honestly, I was just as bad. I couldn't get over Severus despite all the red flags that should have warned me away.

I tried to be rational about it, list the pros and cons of continuing a relationship with a mystery man. I didn't get too far: Pro: Sexy as hell. Con: Infuriating frustration of unexplained absences. Pro: Sexy as hell. Con: Where the fuck are you, Severus? Get. In. My. Bed.

Yeah, I had it bad. My co-workers who'd enjoyed the benefits of my good mood all summer, were now treated to my short-tempered outbursts and complaints. They were good-natured enough about it, offering to set me up on blind dates, or to "punch his lights out" (that was Jerry's helpful offer if I'd only tell him where to find "my mystery man.")

I think the consensus was that I'd found out he was married. That's what Taima told me, even though I emphatically denied it. I'll admit I did stop to think about it. What if he was married? What if this Lily wasn't really dead? What if she were his wife? The thought of it alarmed me. I had no desire to tear apart another relationship. I was supposed to be avoiding my past mistakes, not repeating them. But despite the logic behind these suspicions, it just didn't feel right to me. Severus' heartache was obvious to me whenever he spoke or thought of Lily.

I was doing the breakup routine, crying some nights, going out on the town some others, until one night in December found me in a nightclub with Taima and some other friends. We were lingering near the bar just off the dance floor, sipping our drinks, shouting at each other over the pounding of the music, when suddenly I saw Severus across the room. Despite all the time and tears that had passed, my heart lifted undeniably. He was looking right at me, and I waved.

He didn't wave back, only gave me the merest hint of a nod. Taima saw me staring. "Hey, isn't that your mystery man?" Taima had long ago guessed the truth that the man from the beach was my mystery man.

"Yeah," I shouted back to her. Although Severus was dressed a little more conventionally today, in black pants and a black shirt, he was still a distinctive individual, with his harsh expression and his jet-black hair that hung down around his face and neck. He didn't approach me, and as I crossed the dance floor to where he stood, I didn't take my eyes off him. Was it the lighting that was causing me to find him so attractive? It hadn't been that long ago when I'd found his appearance lacking. He hadn't changed, but tonight I was breathless for every feature of him.

He greeted me with a kiss. Less passionate than the one we'd last shared, but clearly tender, meaningful. Over the pulsing of the music we shouted hellos before he decided to revert to the easier solution of telepathy. I was unprepared and to my embarrassment, the first thought he found in my mind was, _I don't hate your hair, I love your hair. _In chagrin, I quickly blocked my thoughts.

But Severus was laughing, and I had to laugh along too, I couldn't help myself. It was intoxicating to see his lips parted in mirth, his head tilted back. He pulled me close to him, and said loudly, "Come on, don't shut me out."

I happily opened my mind again_. I can't stay long, _Severus was telling me, _but I've missed you._

_I've missed you too. I'm sorry for running away like that._

_You have no need to apologize to me._

_Why can't you stay? _Oh why was I saying this, I'd be pushing him away again. Too late I realized he was reading my afterthought as clearly as my intended thought.

_No, you're not pushing me away. I'm sorry to keep secrets from you, but I have a difficult job to do. _

At the word secrets, I couldn't help myself, I began straining to delve deeper into his thoughts, trying to quench my curiosity. Severus shook his head, ending the mind-reading. Instead of speaking, he just held me close. We held each other, moving to the music, but not really dancing with any effort or purpose. It felt so good to be in his arms, my head resting on his shoulder.

I don't know how long we stayed together like that, but finally Severus spoke. "I have to go." He could see the dismay on my face, even if he didn't touch my thoughts. "I'll see you again, when I can. Don't give up on me."

"I won't," I said.

"Thank You," Severus replied, accepting my words without even trying to confirm them in my mind.


	12. Predictable Torture

Secrets, secrets, nothing sexier than secrets. Severus had left me alone again, and what is a girl to do except invent marvelous daydream fantasies about him as a secret agent man or some kind of undercover policeman. Wondering does he carry a gun? Is it loaded? Thinking of fun little double entendres. His whole persona as "Theatre Professor" was probably a cover for whatever dangerous secret he was involved in.

Trust me I lingered long and hard on these thoughts and tried to avoid the nasty little red flag waving thoughts that said stuff like, "married", "drug addict", "alcoholic", and worst of all, "schizophrenic." Not that the little red flag waving thoughts had any success with me. There they were screaming "schizophrenic, insane, escapee from the nut house" and there was me, looking all dreamy, deciding that I'd stand by him and love his beautiful fucked-up mind.

I'd bought Severus a present, just before Christmas, hoping I'd see him again, but I didn't.

"He's married," Taima insisted when the holidays found me attending parties solo, fending off various advances under the mistletoe. "He can't see you during the holidays because he's tied up with his real family. Is that the kind of life you want?"

"I'm sure he's not," I disagreed.

"Have you asked him?"

I didn't answer this, but Taima knew full well I hadn't. I just hadn't seen the need. I did still have questions about Lily, the crucial one being, _Can you ever love again_? I was terrified of that answer though. I'd have to lead up to it slowly.

"You need to ask him," Taima persisted. "If he's not married, then he must be terrified of commitment. Otherwise, he would not leave you alone during the holidays. He has to know you'll be going to parties, all dressed up, looking fine. Does he think other men are all blind? Does he think _you're_ blind? Because there are going to be some very fine men at my New Year's Eve party, and I think you should kiss at least one of them."

Should I? Shouldn't I? I had a lot to drink on New Year's Eve. Taima's place was packed and dimly lit as the crowd counted down to midnight. I know I kissed or was kissed by more than one person, at least one of whom was female, and at least one of whom tried to slip me some tongue. In the inebriated moment, I found it quite funny, but the next day, I found it depressing. The joys of singlehood were short-lived. I would rather be in an uncertain, mystifying relationship than to endure the predictable torture of tedious blind dates, phone numbers given but never called, the dread of explaining the tawdry circumstances of my marriage and divorce. Maybe it was escapism, but I didn't care. I was sure I'd get through to Severus eventually.

In February as Valentine's Day approached, I decided to put that gift in my handbag again, just in case. It was a smallish box, and its red paper and white bow were still suitable for Valentine's Day. Every time I caught a glimpse of it, I got a tingle of anticipation. That Friday, I was headed out to lunch with some of my work friends, and there was Severus, waiting for me outside my building, dressed in black as usual, but without his theatrical-looking garb. "I've changed my mind about lunch," I told my friends joyfully, "I'll see you later."

"Don't be late," smirked Jerry.

I ran to Severus, and threw myself on him like the sex-crazed woman I was. It was just a kiss, but I could sense his restraint. I'm sure he was hoping for something a little more respectable for a busy city street at noon, but then, he shouldn't have left me alone so long. I delighted as his tightly pursed lips soon softened and parted, as he held me tighter, and I could feel that closeness and connection enveloping me again.

But too soon, respectability overtook us, we broke out of the intimate little universe of a kiss, and became part of the city again. "It's so good to see you Severus," I said, smiling up at him. He looked worried again and he seemed thinner. There were shadows under his eyes, and his skin seemed to be stretched tight over his cheekbones. "I didn't mean to keep you from your lunch," he said, apologetically. "Shall we have something to eat together?"

"Sounds lovely," I said. Anything he said sounded lovely. I was thrilled to be hearing his voice again.

We ended up going to a small café nearby, where I knew the food would be served quickly. I didn't want to waste all of my precious time with Severus eating a meal. We ordered soup, and while we were waiting, I opened my purse. "I have something for you," I said. "Happy Valentine's Day." I handed him the package.

Severus looked dismayed. "I'm sorry, I forgot there was an occasion. I haven't thought of this kind of thing in a long time."

"Don't worry about it. It was actually a Christmas present, but that didn't happen. Obviously." I wished I hadn't added that last word. It sounded spiteful and that was not my intention.

"You ought to have forgotten all about me by now," Severus said, moodily.

"How can I forget the man who reads my mind?" I said, with my most flirtatious smile.

"That's not as important as you imagine it to be," he said brusquely.

"How can you say that?" I protested. "There's something magical between us, don't deny it." Severus was silent. "Why haven't _you_ forgotten _me_?" I questioned him.

"I should."

Infuriating. That's what the man was-infuriating. "Why did you come here today then?" I asked crossly. A thought crossed my mind that he was going to end things with me, and although I hadn't sensed him reading my mind, I determined that I wouldn't let him if he tried. I didn't need my vulnerability exposed if he had only come here to say it was over between us.

"Why indeed? After everything I've done I should be able to face the loathsome actions required of me without taking a break to look at a pretty face." Severus sounded disgusted.

"If you think you're taking a break from being loathsome, think again," I replied rudely. "Or was I supposed to assume that was a compliment?"

At this Severus stared at me, his expression changing from scowling to thoughtful. "I came here because you won't let me be loathsome. Because you can think the worst of me and the best of me at the same time. Because I need to remember how it feels. . ."

"How what feels?" But he didn't answer. Our waitress returned, and unsmilingly plopped our steaming soup in front of us.

"Open your gift," I said, awkwardly, hoping to change the mood.

Severus unwrapped the box, and pulled the elegant small square bottle out. He studied it a moment, and said, "What is it?"

"Cologne, silly," I laughed. "What do you think it is? A drink?"

"Ah, scent," he said. He seemed less perplexed, but still not pleased, much to my disappointment.

"I know it's kind of impersonal, but I didn't know what else you might like," I said, apologetically, feeling embarrassed at my unimaginative gift. Severus seemed distracted and didn't answer as I carried on. "Don't worry, I don't think you smell bad. I was just trying to be nice. You don't even need to use it." I was feeling miffed. He could at least pretend he liked it. I continued, starting to sound a little more petulant. "Maybe if I knew a little more about you, if you weren't such a mystery, I could have chosen a better gift."

"Thank you, Lydia," Severus said, ignoring my complaint. "It was kind of you to think of me. I want you to know that every moment I spend with you is a gift to me. You don't need to buy me things."

That was a very pretty speech, especially for Severus, but it didn't exactly alleviate my mood. He'd gone down the road of dissatisfaction and taken me with him. "What kind of actor can't even feign enthusiasm at a gift?" I grumbled. I was picking a fight, I knew it.

"I'm focusing my acting skills on more important matters," he said curtly.

"Like what? Are you some kind of spy or something?" I must confess I asked this rather sarcastically.

He glared at me darkly, "Something like that."

Really? He really was a secret agent man? As quickly as I'd started, I was ready to stop fighting. If he would just let me into his life a little more. I was so close.

"For how long?" I asked.

"How long have I been doing this "acting" job? Or for how much longer?"

"Both,"

"On and off for the last 15 years. As to how much longer, that I can't predict."

We sat silently for a few moments eating our soup. "Do you have some time?" I asked. "Would you like to come home with me? We could talk more comfortably there." I'd planned to ask him this from the moment we entered the café, but now seduction was far from my mind. I was only hoping that he would reveal more of his story if we were in private.

"That is the last place I should be going," Severus said emphatically. "I have to play my role to the fullest. If anyone were to learn about you, you'd be in danger. This is very real. There have already been deaths. You remember the bridge collapse?"

"That wasn't an accident?" I questioned. "I always wondered how they could have ruled out terrorists so quickly."

"There will be more deaths before this is over," Severus warned.

"Now you're scaring me. Be careful," I said, alarmed at his intensity.

"I have means to defend myself," Severus said confidently. "It's you I'm concerned about. But you've given me an idea. And for that, I do thank you." He raised the bottle of cologne as if toasting me, and then stood up to leave.

"You can't go already," I protested. But he was pulling money out of his pocket. He dropped much more than necessary on the table, gave me a quick cool kiss and hurried off. I stared at the pile of money on the table. Either he was unaccustomed to eating in inexpensive cafes or he was unaccountably impressed with our surly waitress. Too late I realized I hadn't asked him one thing about Lily.

_A potion that could be absorbed through the skin. It will have to be very potent. I can't just put it in a bottle to be left lying around Lydia's bedroom. I'll need to find another way. And find the right potion to protect Lydia without alerting her to the truth about me. If I can't stay away from her, then I need to find a way to keep her safe._


	13. Good and Evil

I didn't see Severus again for months. As spring arrived and the weather warmed, I decided to go looking for him at the lake again, despite feeling ambivalent about it. I wasn't sure he wanted to see me, I was trying to respect his career, the responsibilities he'd alluded to, however vaguely, danger he'd spoken of. I didn't want to get in his way, but I felt lonely and needy. I went to my cottage one Friday after work, intending to make my customary hike to "our beach" as I thought of it now, the next day.

But that next morning, when I went outside to get in my car, Severus was waiting there for me, standing right next to my car.

"You can't come looking for me like this," he said sternly. "I might not be free to see you."

"Then don't," I said, annoyed that the man who ignored me for months was taking me for granted this way. "Who says I'm coming to see you? Maybe I just want to relax at the lake."

"Don't go to that part of the lake anymore, Lydia. I can't talk about it, but you must believe me, you'll be in danger there."

"Because of your work?" I asked.

"You have a wonderful view of the lake right here," he said, avoiding my question, walking towards the sparse line of trees between the row of cottages and the lake. "Why do you go to all the trouble to get to the other place?"

"I like the challenge. And the seclusion, that feeling of being all alone in the world."

"I guess I'm lucky that you like being alone," Severus mused.

"I don't anymore," I disagreed. "That used to be my reason. Today I was going because I missed you." It made me a little nervous to put my feelings on the line like that, especially with Severus. I never knew what kind of mood he might be in. Not true, actually I could usually depend on him to be in a bad mood, I just never knew if it would be brooding, or irritable, or merely sad.

Today, he must have been just sad, because he said kindly, "Walk with me a while then. I've missed you too."

Such a little thing to make me so happy. _I've missed you too._ We walked down to the lake. Unlike the secluded place, you could clearly see people inhabited this spot, even though it was too early for crowds of summer visitors soaking up the sun. There were docks built out into the water for the little boats that would soon line the shore. Rustic-looking wooden benches bleached white-gray from years of weather. A charming spot, but no deserted island.

It was early in the morning, the day was cool, overcast, and we were the only ones on the beach. I was glad of this, because Severus was dressed again in his customary costume, and although he'd left the long cape at my porch, he was still an odd figure in his long black jacket. We walked over to a bench and sat down, gazing out at the lake.

"See," he said, "Deserted."

"It won't be like this forever," I said. "Will you still come to see me when it's packed with kiddies building sand castles?"

"Perish the thought," he shuddered, in mock horror.

I laughed, but my mirth was brief, and I sighed, thinking of loneliness. "Why must we be apart so much?" I sighed. My feelings were just bursting out of me today, I noticed.

Severus reached for my hand with his long cool fingers. I turned to look at him, and was struck by the incongruousness of his appearance, in his formal black clothing, sitting there on that rustic bench, beach grasses waving in the breeze behind him, while his hair hung lank, parted in the center, his face, long, pale, forbidding-looking. He didn't belong here. Perhaps he didn't belong with me at all, I thought sadly.

"And I was wondering why I can't stay away from you," Severus replied.

"You seem to manage it," I replied, then felt the regret. Too late-I sounded so bitter. "I'm sorry," I said quickly, "I know you have good reasons. I've just been feeling lonely lately. Wondering. . ."

_I care for you, I'm fond of you, I have feelings for you, I like you,_ any one of these would do, but I just sat there thinking, trying to choose the right words, afraid of saying the wrong thing. Severus didn't even try to read my mind, and I wondered how he could be so disinterested. Why should I tell him what he obviously didn't want to know?

"Wondering?" he prompted.

"Wondering if your work will always come between us. If the danger you talk of will take you away from me forever. If you believe what you're doing is worth the sacrifice."

"I wonder that myself sometimes, when I see someone who's supposed to be the "good one" acting selfishly and irresponsibly. Doing harm to others he deems "evil". Do these so-called good people really need me?"

I should have been happy to hear his ambiguity, but instead of pouncing on the opportunity to suggest he give it all up, I felt guilty for even questioning him. "If you believe you're doing the right thing, then you must continue. I'm sorry to sound like I'm complaining. You know it's just because I'm fond of you." There, I said it.

He didn't speak, but grasped my hand more tightly and I felt the warmth of my feelings for him surrounding my heart. We sat quietly for a while, and then I asked, "What is so dangerous about the other place? Are we even safe here?

"We are today," Severus stated.

"What are you saying-that even my own cottage is dangerous?"

"If I were to be seen there, yes."

"But you're not worried about that today?"

"No, I'm not."

"Why is it dangerous at the other place? Do the terrorists go there? Who owns that land anyway? I never did figure that out."

"No more questions please, Lydia," he said wearily. "I can't speak to you about any of it. The less you know the better. Let's talk about something else."

Something else. There was something else I'd been meaning to ask. Here was my opportunity. "Tell me about Lily."

I don't think he expected that, because he hesitated. "Are you sure?" he finally asked.

"Yes. "

Silence again, except for the caws of gulls calling. "Was she beautiful?" I asked. Why? I didn't want to hear about that, did I?

"Yes," he replied softly. "She had the most beautiful green eyes. Long hair like a sunset. A smile like a sunrise."

He was speaking so sadly, tenderly, poetically, and I was being torn apart with pangs of jealousy and pity. "How long has it been," I asked quietly, "Since she . . .died?"

"More than fifteen years now."

I was shocked at this. After so long, he still felt her loss so deeply? Maybe he never would love again. Was I the one now doomed to unrequited love? "So her boy was just a baby?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Did you raise him?"

"No. He went to his Aunt and Uncle. But I've tried to look out for him since he's come to the school."

"How did he escape the fire? Did you save him?"

"No. Lily saved him. I didn't save anyone. I should have. But I trusted someone else."

"You shouldn't blame yourself. You're not a firefighter. You could have been killed too."

"That might have been the better way."

"No," I said sharply, shaking my head. "No." _Because then I'd never have met you_ I thought, but that sounded so selfish I couldn't say it.

"There were things I could have done," Severus was saying. "I'm more capable than you know. But I listened to a man I trusted. I'm still listening to him, because I made a promise. I just hope he's not wrong."

"Is he the good one, who's choosing the evil?"

"Not him. He'd rather lay down and die than to give in to evil. And yet is that any better than fighting it?"

As intrigued as I was by this, I thought I'd better continue asking about Lily, before he changed his mind about talking. "How long had you known Lily?"

"We were children when we met," Severus said. "For a time we were best of friends."

"What happened? You had a fight?"

"She became friends with people I despised. I got angry with her, I said something I regretted. I apologized, but she never forgave me. After that, it was over. I'm not even sure she ever felt anything more than friendship for me."

I knew how devastating it felt to not be forgiven. I still longed for my family, although I knew I deserved to be shunned. I knew how relieved I'd felt when Alan, whom I'd treated so heartlessly, accepted my apology with kindness and dignity. Even though I'd lost him forever, even though he found love without me, I couldn't help but feel grateful that he'd never shown me an ounce of vengefulness. "She may have regretted it too, you know," I told Severus.

"Like you do?" he replied, perceptively. "You mustn't imagine that I'm like your Alan, a good man rejected out of selfishness. Not at all. I'm not a good man. Lily saw that—and I chose to blame her for it rather than to change."

"Severus!" I said, reprovingly. "You're too hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes, but they don't have to define us as intrinsically bad. I hope not," I added. "Otherwise there's no hope for me either."

But Severus' face was stony. "There are good people who make mistakes. And then there are the people like me, for whom any sort of goodness is a perpetual challenge. Lily's death shocked me like nothing ever had. It made me realize I had to try to fight the evil within myself. But even now, I play the part of evil, and it feels good, like it belongs to me."

His words send sad chills through me. "I don't think you're evil," I insisted.

"I know you don't," he responded. "Maybe because you're not that good yourself."

Sometimes his rudeness irritated me, but sometimes, like now, it just made me laugh. "Let's be bad then, Severus," I said flirtatiously, reaching my arms around his neck, poising for a kiss, "let's be very, very bad."

"It's not a joke, Lydia. And I'm sorry I said that. You are good. I'm not."

A kiss was not happening, but I didn't back away. I looked into his eyes as I said, "Everyone has both sides within them, good and evil. You just need to acknowledge the true state of your heart, the best and the worst. You can't deny who you are at heart, but you can choose the path you want to follow."

He pulled away from me with an expression of distaste. "Acknowledge the truth of my heart?" he asked scornfully. "That I like to dominate people? I like to see people fear me? Is that the truth you hoped to hear?"

Most people are oblivious of their faults, so I was impressed at his self-assessment. "Ah, the age old question," I said airily. "'Would you rather be loved or feared?'" I put my hand to his cheek and looked into his eyes again. "I think you choose to be feared because you don't believe you _can_ be loved." _I love you_, I thought. I wanted to say it, but I was afraid to. I'd said enough, he hadn't given me anything. Never be the first one to say it-that was my rule. But I kept thinking it and thinking_, read my mind now, Severus. _

"You might have to look harder to find the best in your heart, but it's there." I told him. "And if it's all tied up with Lily, then so be it. I may have to admit my jealousy, but I don't expect you to forget her. I just hope you can find room for me too."

"You are there," he said fervently, "you are." He pulled me to him then and kissed me deeply.

I can't imagine how we looked, if anyone had been there to see us. Two people with long dark hair, me in my t-shirt, Capri pants and sandals, Severus in his black suit, sitting there on a bench on the shoreline, kissing, groping, clinging to each other, like a couple of teenagers. At the time, I didn't picture that image. I was just enjoying that devouring, intoxicating kiss, trying to stay as close to Severus as possible, to touch him, to besiege him, to possess him in every way. I wanted more than the fleeting touch of his hand grazing my breast as he caressed me. I wanted more than the tickle of fingertips on my neck as he brushed my hair away from my face and kissed me again. I wanted everything, but when I finally spoke to suggest we go up to my cottage, I only managed to break the spell. Severus instantly resumed his self-control. "No, I must be going." Could he feel my heart breaking? Because he gave me one last long thoughtful look before he began walking away.

I followed him back to the cottage, where he picked up his cloak, and left saying simply, "Goodbye."

He walked away towards the main road, and I wondered if he had parked at a distance in case someone was following him. It was like a plot in a movie, but the reality of it in my life was a little frightening. He'd assured me that we were safe today. I'd have to trust him.


	14. A Follower

I think I let my imagination carry me away a little. On my way back to the city Sunday afternoon, I obsessively checked my rearview mirror to make sure no one was following me. I parked my car three blocks from home, and walked home intently alert to every person in the vicinity. Not that I was seriously worried. I just thought it would be good practice. Just in case.

Just in case what, I didn't know. I figured Severus would never let me get close enough to the truth to be in real danger. That was the sad reality that kept us apart. I hoped that circumstances would change, but in the meantime, it wouldn't hurt me to sharpen my skills.

Back to work on Monday, letting the memory of that passionate kiss carry me through what I was sure would be another long absence from Severus. I tried to focus on that, to think about his sweet voice saying "I've missed you too." Thinking about our long talk, how he opened up to me, how he even told me I was there in his heart.

"You saw him again, didn't you?" Taima said, accusingly, the minute I said good morning to her.

"Who?" I tried unsuccessfully to sound innocent.

"I knew it," she blurted triumphantly. "I can tell by that satisfied little smile on your face."

I just shrugged.

"I don't get it," she said. "He ignores you most of the time, he's probably married, he dresses like a priest, and he's sure not good-looking. He must be amazing in bed."

I didn't answer.

"How big?" she asked.

I said nothing, but I felt an embarrassed flush rising to my face.

My silence gave me away. "Oh my God!" Taima exclaimed. "You haven't done it? You haven't! Oh my God! You can't be serious. How long has it been?" She fell silent for a minute, obviously doing a little mental math, trying to remember my history with Severus.

"Two years? Has it really been two years?" she exclaimed.

I was getting annoyed. There was too much truth in what she was saying. It had been longer than that since our first meeting. Was I just fooling myself? "You don't understand," I said huffily.

"Damn right I don't," she retorted, shaking her head. "You are missing out on something real, for a whole lot of nothing. He didn't even give you one bloody damn thing for Valentine's Day."

Now I was angry. How dare she trample all over my happiness like this? I was trying to savor the feeling, trying not to think of my worries for Severus' safety. And now Taima was forcing me to think of petty things like Valentine's gifts and celibacy, and damn her, I was thinking it.

"I didn't want a bloody damn thing for Valentine's Day," I snapped. "You don't have to understand. But you should think twice about insulting the man I love."

I guess she thought twice, because she just raised her eyebrows at me, and didn't speak of it again. In fact, we didn't speak of much again, other than work, and even that was tense.

I tried to focus on positive thoughts. I tried not to think about missing Severus. I tried not to think about danger or the dreadful fear that if something happened to Severus, I might not even know. No. I would know. I would feel it. I was certain of that although it was no comfort.

I signed up for a self-defense class. Just in case. And just to fill up some of my time that I would have only spent in anxious thought. The first lesson of the class was all discussion, no physical techniques. Mostly about how to be aware of your surroundings, avoiding risky situations.

I had to wonder that night, if parking three blocks away and walking home in the dark qualified as a risky situation. But I tried to be observant, aware of my surroundings. I did the same the next morning, watching for anything suspicious as I retrieved my car. Scanning the rearview mirror, worrying about every vehicle that seemed to be taking the same route I did. As I arrived at work, watching again for trouble. And there it was.

There, right there, outside my office building. I would have never suspected him of trouble, if I hadn't been on high alert, if I hadn't noticed him in the crowd a few other times. A short, stubby-nosed, light-haired young man, wearing glasses. He was extremely short, had no neck and was as ugly as a toad. Unmistakable.

My heart started pounding. I didn't know what to do. I'd seen him before. I was sure of it. He must be following me. Should I confront him? Tell Severus? How? Our telepathy only seemed to work when we were actually together and only if he allowed it. Perhaps I should try to seek him out at the lake again. But I decided not to. I would heed his warning to stay away, I'd pay attention to this unknown stalker, and next time I saw Severus, I'd warn him immediately. I hoped it wouldn't be too long.

For the next few weeks I kept up my paranoid, yet probably unsafe, new routine, of parking at different places and walking home, watching out for followers. So far I'd never seen toad-boy close to my home. He seemed to be only around my workplace, and once when I was shopping. But I kept looking out for him, eyes scanning the dusky evening, watching people walking and in the cars that passed. Today I couldn't find parking on the street, so I went to a parking garage. I chose a spot close to the stairs, planning to make a speedy bee-line to the exit. But the moment I was about to get out of the car, my passenger door opened, and as I screamed in fright, Severus slipped into the seat beside me.

"Oh my God! What are you doing here?" I shrieked. "You scared me to death."

"My apologies," he said, not sounding very apologetic at all.

"Where the fuck did you even come from?" I yelled, my knees shaking. So much for my powers of observation, and being alert to my surroundings.

"Silence!" he commanded so masterfully that I obeyed, and even my fear seemed to comply. I sat there gasping, catching my breath, waiting expectantly for Severus to speak.

Instead he sat glaring unaccountably out the front window, at the concrete wall of the garage, his jaw clenched, face pale and tensed. I must say, I liked seeing him in profile, the long curved lines of his forehead, nose and cheekbones. Oh, fuck you Taima, he's better than good-looking. He's distinctive. And good-looking too. I had to kiss him.

It was just a kiss on the cheek, a gentle effort on my part to remind him that I was here. He looked at me and even in the dim light of the garage, I could see he was burdened with stress.

"Congratulations," he said, voice dripping with cynicism. "You are now the only person alive who does not despise me."

"Is it that bad?" I asked, concerned, but I could see the answer in his face. He looked years older, his face was paler, his features harsh, angry, and his eyes, glittering cold, but also weary.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I still can't talk about it," he said edgily, through clenched teeth.

"I know," I said.

"And I can't stay."

"Someone's following me," I blurted out.

Severus looked at me sharply. "Are you sure?"

"No," I said, "I mean, maybe, but if someone really wanted to follow me, they wouldn't send such a conspicuous person to do it, right?"

"What does he look like?" Severus demanded.

"Extremely short, not even 5 feet tall. Ugly guy with no neck, snub nose, bad haircut, glasses."

Severus looked angry.

"Do you know who it is?" I asked.

"It might be a long time before I can see you again." Severus said. "You should try to reconcile with your family. You need people you can depend on."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear "I'll miss you, I'll be counting the moments until I can see you again. . . iloveyou . . . no I didn't even dare to dream that.

"Severus," I said, agonizingly. He finally looked me in the eyes, his eyes so troubled.

"You would be better off without me."

"I don't want to be." I said.

"If you made that choice, I would understand."

"I wouldn't want you understand. I'd want you to be jealous."

He forced a smile, held my hand, kissed me so gently, wistfully even. And then as always, he left.

_It's impossible to cast the Avada Kadavra without hatred. Hate is part of the curse. Dumbledore knew that, he knew I was capable of it. He promised to save Lily. He failed me. This time, I'll take care of things my way. And there will be no one but myself to blame. _


	15. Revelations

Severus always said it would be a long time before he'd see me again, but I always hoped that he'd be wrong. I was still avoiding Taima, and despite Severus' advice to me to reconcile with my family, I didn't get any further than making one phone call and promptly hanging up in alarm when I heard my mother's voice.

I didn't see Severus again for two months. Two beautiful summer months, when the thing I longed for most, was to get him on our beach, in the water, stripped of clothing, of secrets, of obstacles. Each time I ventured to my cottage l left disappointed and reluctant to return. I had purchased the skimpiest bikini I'd ever worn, hoping to entice Severus if he appeared, but I only attracted unwanted attention and wolf-whistles that made my loneliness seem even more unbearable.

I tried to reason with myself, to tell myself that the mind-reading was a fluke, was meaningless, that the forces of fate that seemed to bring Severus and I together were coincidences, that the longing, love and yearning I felt for him were symptoms of my feelings of guilt and unworthiness. I tried to tell myself that even Severus wanted me to stay away from him, but I couldn't really believe it.

I tried to tell myself that it was unhealthy to spend my nights in fantasies and fears, my days in gloomy yearning and anxious watching. That Taima was right and my obsession had gone on for too long. But I couldn't bring myself to make any effort to break the addiction.

I was outside my cottage one July night, listening to the wind of an oncoming storm whipping through the trees and dashing waves onto the shore. It was late, past midnight. I'd already tried unsuccessfully to sleep. My fantasies and efforts at self pleasure had been unsatisfactory. A good cry had not helped either. I was hoping that a few deep breaths of fresh air would clear my head before I tried again to rest.

Suddenly, Severus was there with me in the dark. Somehow I was not at all startled by this. "Lydia," his voice came to me softly, and bliss flooded through me.

"Severus," I sighed happily. I reached out in the darkness to touch him. He was standing beside me, looking at the blackness in the direction of the lake.

"I could stay away from you," he said. "I could make you forget me. But you've come into my life for a reason. That much is clear to me."

"I feel the same way," I responded breathlessly.

"I nearly killed someone today," Severus said abruptly shifting from what I thought was going to be a romantic interlude. As I gasped in surprise, he clarified his statement. "The wrong someone I should say. I have killed before, you should know that. Sometimes it's necessary. But this time, I was caught up in the moment. Fortunately, at the last second, I realized what I was doing, and shifted my aim."

These revelations had me stunned. I held my breath involuntarily as I tried to think of a suitable response. "It must be hard," I said finally, "I can't even imagine it. I'm positive I couldn't be brave if faced with violence."

"The worst thing," he said slowly, "the first thought that came to my mind was, "I never miss. Why should_ I_ miss?" He exhaled deeply. "I should have felt relieved, not humiliated." I tried to peer through the darkness to see his face, but I couldn't read an expression in that shadowy outline. "It is so hard for me to align myself with the losing side," he said resentfully.

"Who's losing?" I asked, uncertain of what he meant.

"Who can say? But doesn't evil always win?"

"No," I objected, dismayed. "How can you think that? Evil only wins when good people don't fight."

"Precisely," Severus agreed. "And good people rarely fight, because good people don't sanction violence. Therefore, evil wins."

I realized with dread, that he was right. I spoke determinedly. "Then we truly do need people like you, who are willing to make the hard choices." I felt such shame now at my selfishness, at wanting him only for my pleasure, not even thinking about the terrors he must face on a daily basis. Taking for granted my safety and security, oblivious to the efforts of Severus, and thousands of others I'm sure, who dealt with the grueling rigors of vanquishing evil. I tried to stop myself, but tears welled up in my eyes. "I need you." I said, willing those tears to melt back into my eyes. "Not just here with me, or in my heart or mind. I need you out there. Fighting evil."

Tears never do just disappear so I had to let those two fall, and I tried to flick them away surreptitiously. Severus saw my movement and gathered me into his arms. "I hate to cause you sadness."

"You don't," I replied, looking up at his face, a pale outline in the darkness. Then we kissed, a brief kiss full of giving and longing and restraint. I hoped it was only the beginning, but Severus sighed.

"I must be going. I'll see you when I can, but I can't take risks. I'm to be Headmaster of the school now."

"Headmaster?" I asked surprised. "How can they ask you do to that? Wouldn't that just put the students in danger? I don't understand."

"I shouldn't talk about these things," he muttered, then stated authoritatively, "That organization has already been infiltrated. I assure you, with me, the students will only suffer the rigors of learning, and the humiliation of failing."

I smiled in spite of myself. "I'd hate to have you as a Professor," I laughed. "But then again, I think you'd hate to have me as a student. I'm not the type to back down."

"I've noticed. Despite your alleged lack of bravery, you've stood up to me quite well." I could hear a note of humor in his voice and cursed the darkness for cheating me out of a glimpse of a smile. "Goodnight," he said and kissed me once again. I reached my arms around his neck, slipping my fingers into his smooth hair, grasping it gently, as if I could forcibly keep him with me. But I knew I had to let him go.


	16. A Gift

Bravery. I might have been able to withstand Severus' moods, but I was not brave. Look at the way I was slinking around worrying about some toad-boy, who probably wasn't following me at all. Look at the way I'd ignored Severus' advice to reconcile with my family because I was afraid of their well-deserved anger. I'd shunned a friend because I didn't like the frank advice I'd befriended her for in the first place. Perhaps I wasn't fighting terrorists, but I decided to be more attentive to righting the wrongs in my own life.

Easier said than done, but I realized as much as I loved and admired Severus, I needed to do more than just fritter away my time, in aimless daydreaming and longing for him. I began by calling home. My mother answered and hung up on me as soon as I said hello. Very well. I would call again next week.

I went to Taima, apologetically, putting aside thoughts that she should be the one to apologize. "Taima, I'm sorry I've been so angry with you. I know you think I'm in a bad relationship. I don't agree, but I can see your point. I don't want to lose your friendship over this. Can we please try to forget it?"

Taima was sweet if gruff. "I haven't changed my mind about him. But I'll try to wait until you come crying for my advice before I give it."

"Fair enough," I agreed.

If only my efforts with my family could have gone better. I called almost every week, sometimes to no answer, sometimes a hang-up, and once my dad saying, "You need to stop this." I wrote a long letter of apology, accepting every aspect of blame that I could and asking to merely be allowed a chance to speak. For weeks afterward my calls went unanswered.

After a time, I realized that my mission to reconcile with Adia and my parents had taken over much of the emotional energy I had previously devoted to longing for Severus. I wondered if that had been his intention. I still thought of him, worried about him, especially as the news seemed filled daily with frightening episodes of random attacks and unexpected violence. I wondered every time, who's behind this? Is this what Severus is working against? Is he safe?

From time to time, I'd feel a comforting presence, as if Severus was near, watching over me, often when I was out at night, or on my own in an unfamiliar place. In vain, I would look for him, but never caught sight of him. All the same, I felt certain he'd been there. It was certainly more comforting than the times when I'd catch a glimpse of toad-boy again. Weeks would go by without a hint of the guy, then suddenly, out of the blue, there he was slinking around again.

In December, I was doing some shopping after work and had that warm feeling again, and imagined that Severus was nearby. I thought fondly of him, but didn't bother to look around, as I never did see him. But this time, I heard footsteps behind me, and before I could turn around, Severus was there beside me.

"Keep walking," he said.

I obeyed. "I'm glad to see you," I said, my pulse racing.

He didn't respond. I had to walk quickly to keep up with him. He had his cloak wrapped tightly around himself. He turned suddenly, at a little bistro. It looked crowded and bustling inside, but we didn't go in. There were some tables and chairs set up outside, surrounded by a low fence festooned with evergreens and twinkling lights. Severus led me to a table furthest from the door, and brushed the snow off the wrought-iron chair for me. I sat down as he cleared the snow off the table and other chair and then sat down across from me.

"I have something for you," he said reaching inside his robe. He placed a folded rectangle of black velvet on the table in front of me.

I unfolded the fabric, and there lying on the black cloth lay an ornate necklace of a swirling silver design, with three large dark jewels, and smaller stones dangling below. It was difficult to see in the dark with only the twinkling of the Christmas lights to illuminate, but I could tell this piece of jewelry was unique, beautiful and probably expensive.

"Oh Severus, it's beautiful," I marveled. "I've never seen anything like it."

"It_ is_ one of a kind," he said. "I designed it myself and it was made by the most skilled craftsmen I know."

"What are these stones?" I asked, picking up the necklace, trying to hold it to the light to get a better view.

"Emeralds." My heart did a spontaneous flip-flop. Emeralds were my favorite jewel. They were also expensive. I hoped the thrill I was feeling didn't indicate that I was still focused on the superficial trappings of wealth.

Severus rose gracefully and took the necklace from me, standing behind me to fasten it around my neck. He gently brushed my hair aside, and I could feel the tantalizing sensation of his fingers reaching inside my coat collar as the cool metal touched my throat. I loved the heavy rich sensation of it on my skin.

"Thank you," I said, belatedly, but with heartfelt emotion. I began to stand to embrace him, but he placed his hands firmly on my shoulders preventing me.

"Wear it always," he said. "As a reminder of my . . . affection for you."

Was he as terrified of saying "love" as I was? I could swear it was on the tip of his tongue. I could swear it was in his heart. But this was no time to nit-pick about word choice. "I will, Severus," I said contentedly, reaching up to touch his hand on my shoulder.

He stood behind me and spoke softly. "I'm not sure what I believe in anymore. What truly matters. What seems to be a simple choice one day, leads down a path that forces other choices, until eventually the choices become impossible."

More mystery, more cryptic declarations. I found myself wanting to say again, "follow your heart," but I knew he'd reject that. I tried to make it more palatable. "I made choices too. Bad choices. I realize now that it's impossible to deny your heart. If I'd only followed my heart, as foolish as it seemed, if I hadn't been swayed by pride, greed, whatever, I could have avoided so much misery. But I can't undo the past. No one can."

"But one can atone."

"Sometimes." I was determined to lift him from this mood, to make him break free of the guilt he must still be feeling over Lily. She had to be the reason he was so adverse to saying _love_. "But not always. Sometimes the only one who'll be able to forgive you is yourself."

He fell silent then for what seemed like a long time. I was beginning to feel awkward, sitting there in front of him, but then he said suddenly, "Perhaps I do know what I believe in." His hands fell from my shoulders, and I stood up then and slipped my arm around him, feeling the comforting strength of his tall form as I nestled my head near his shoulder. He stroked my hair gently, absent-mindedly.

Then a group a people exited the bistro and Severus seemed to shrink into the shadows with me. He pressed me against the corner of the building and accosted me with a consuming kiss. After the people passed he whispered to me, "Go inside, get some coffee, wait awhile before you go." He pushed me gently towards the entrance. When I glanced back, he'd already gone.

_If anyone knew that my wages and the rewards the Dark Lord bestowed upon me had procured such a lavish gift for a Muggle. . . But no one will know. At least I can depend on that, that I'm master and keeper of my own thoughts and secrets. _

I was thrilled to wear my elegant emerald early Christmas present always, if this meant flaunting it at work on Monday to all those cynics who had been mercilessly teasing me about my mystery man.

"Oh my," said Taima, when she saw it. It _was_ a little too elaborate for the office.

"Do you like it?" I said proudly touching it. "My boyfriend gave it to me."

"Those can't be real emeralds," she said.

"Yes, they are," I nodded smugly.

"Okay, real, lab-created, whatever they call it. It is impressive," she conceded. "Although I'm not so crazy about the snake motif. Bit of an odd choice. Hearts too romantic?"

"Snake motif?" I questioned. I looked down but it was hard to get a good look at the necklace while wearing it. "I didn't see any snakes."

That night as I undressed for bed, I studied my necklace in the mirror. I supposed, with a little imagination, the wires that held the small emeralds that dangled from the necklace could be construed as serpents' tongues, and the swirling silver metal design that narrowed and curled around the larger stones could resemble the body and tail. But overall, I thought it looked like a combination of art-deco and gothic, with the front of the necklace the bold scrolling silver and three large glittering emeralds, forming a collar with the nine smaller emeralds dangling down. And the chain that fastened it, a band as wide as my finger, of tiny interlocking links like chain mail.

I took it off to admire it more closely and noticed on the back that there were tiny marks like pinpricks that did indeed look like snake eyes in what could be considered the heads. Ridiculous. Why do I listen to Taima? She says things and I can't forget them. They weren't snakes and even if they were, Severus had designed it himself. There must be some significance to the design. Snakes. Classic Freudian phallic symbol, I thought humorously, putting the necklace on once again. I ran my hands over it thinking of . . .well . . .the obvious.


	17. Into the Lake

An emerald necklace can go a long way towards making a girl feel special, even if her lover is mostly absent, existing only as a fantasy and an occasional sensation of protection. I did wear that necklace almost every day, although often I kept it hidden under my clothing. I liked the feel of it next to my skin. It made me think of Severus' hands touching me and helped me to endure our separation.

Separation, it seemed to be a way of life with me. I'd been separated from my family for years, and of course from Alan. And divorced from Rick. Would I ever achieve a relationship where I'd be together with someone? I'd been attempting to reconnect with Mum and Dad and Aida for months now, making scant progress. I wished them Merry Christmas via telephone, and suggested that I'd like to come see them. Dad's reply, "Not yet," was faint encouragement that perhaps someday there would be a possibility of face-to-face conversation. But for now, all I could do was persist with the phone calls.

And so the months went by, until in late April, a spate of unseasonably warm weather prompted me to make the trip to the lake again. I spend most of the weekend freshening my cottage, dusty with disuse from the winter. On Sunday, chores done, and another sunny warm day beckoning, I decided to spend some time on the beach. I thought briefly, longingly of that secluded shore across the dunes, of that one magical summer when Severus and I would eat picnic lunch together, talking casually, comfortably. No talk of darkness and danger. Of course that was before I knew of his secret life, when I still thought his struggles were personal.

The only swimwear I'd left at the cottage was that tiny black bikini that I'd worn last summer to no avail. I put it on, taking a small bit of satisfaction that my excessive free time and loneliness had at least given me time for a dedicated exercise regimen. Even if I was pathetically pale, at least I was slim and toned. I tied the thin silver cords that fastened the halter top and the bikini bottom, and then slipped on a black hooded beach cover up. I grabbed a folding chair and a magazine and walked down to the beach.

I sat a while in the sun, trying to read my magazine, removing and replacing my sunglasses several times in frustration, as they made it too dark to read, but without them, I squinted at the glare off the pages. Then as I looked around to relive my eyes, about to put the sunglasses on once again, I saw Severus emerging from the trees near the cottages. My heart quickened and God help me, wild desire coursed through every inch of my body.

He stalked towards me, cloak billowing behind him dramatically. It occurred to me that it had been almost a year since I'd seen him in the light of day. Had I forgotten how tall and impressive he was, the fierce masculinity of his face? Those lips that could curl into a cruel sneer, but could also engulf me in a sensuous kiss?

I stood up and greeted him happily, warmly. "Severus! It's good to see you."

But instead of looking pleased, his face darkened as he approached me. "Why aren't you wearing the necklace?" he demanded sternly.

"I'm sorry," I said in chagrin, realizing I'd left it at home in the city. How could I have forgotten? "It didn't seem appropriate for the beach," I explained.

"I _asked_ you to wear it _always_," he said accusingly, biting off the words.

Damn it, what was it about him that caused me to feel both angry and aroused whenever he tried to get scary with me. "I didn't think you meant it literally," I replied tersely.

"How did you think I meant it?" he retorted in full sarcastic form.

"I thought you meant it as an expression of your hopes for our relationship." I said frostily. I was an idiot to think that. He probably figured he could just buy my adoration with a piece of jewelry. And I almost fell for it. "What the hell do you want from me anyway?" I fumed. "Because if you think giving me a necklace buys you some kind of ownership over me, you're sadly mistaken."

Now I could see the fierce expression intensifying on his face, that sneer emerging, his eyes darkening, brow creasing in rage. Was it wrong to find this so exhilarating? I was feeling so aroused, wanting to further enrage him and yet entice him at the same time. Wicked, wicked me, but my pent-up lust was out of control. It was his fault for keeping us apart, causing me to experience all the roller-coaster of emotions that go into a relationship, simultaneously, right now.

Severus seemed at a loss for words, but I knew that wouldn't last long.

"So are you turning against me now?" he asked darkly.

Sometimes snappy comebacks just occur to me, and sadly, I tend to use them, even despite better judgment. So I fixed my gaze on his and said levelly, "I'd love to turn against you." I paused a beat before adding emphatically, "in bed."

He was taken aback. I could see the rage subside, a look not of confusion, but certainly of consternation as if he was processing my sudden shift from fighting to flirting. I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to pull off my cover-up, and flaunt my bikini-clad figure before him.

"As long as we're discussing what we'd like each other to wear," I said coolly, "I think you should take off your clothes. You're dreadfully overdressed for the beach. And if you'd like to see me wear that necklace, you should take me someplace nice."

He was staring at me, lips pressed tightly, and though I couldn't read his mind, I could see a rapid succession of expressions cross his face. "Have you taken leave of your senses?" he asked, with theatrical dignity.

"I think that's exactly what I need to do," I answered. I'd been holding back too long, letting Severus set the pace. No more. I was going to get physical with him today, even if I had to attack him to do it. I stepped towards him, reached up to his shoulders and faced him. "You have ensnared my senses, and you've expected me to keep it bottled in. I need to be released." I was unfastening his cloak as I spoke.

"You're not like yourself today," Severus muttered, then looking down in surprise as the black fabric slipped off his shoulders and fluttered to the ground.

"Oh I am," I asserted. "You just don't know me anymore. This i_s_ myself, the self that has been simmering with desire for months, years, while you flit in and out of my life."

"Believe me, if I had any other choice. . ."

I threw myself on him with a passionate kiss then, and was pleased to find him responsive. Not just his mouth, which pressed and searched mine, not just his arms which clung to me tightly, not just his body fixed against mine. No, I could feel that telltale hardness of him, against my hip as I wrapped one leg around the back of his thigh. I pressed the palm of my hand against his bulging pants, and he flinched. "What are you trying to do to me," he groaned.

"I'll do whatever you want me to," I said huskily. "And you can do whatever you like to me."

He didn't pull away from me, but he said, "No. Not while I need to keep secrets from you."

Oh, I was so close. "I don't care about your secrets," I said emphatically. I backed off a bit to look him in the eyes. "You're not married are you?"

"No," he said, disdainfully.

"Then I don't care about your secrets. I don't care who you are, or what you've done. Who knows how long these secrets could go on? I've been waiting for you, and I don't want to wait any longer." I was only holding his hand now, but that bulge was still pressing at his pants. I softened my tone and said flirtatiously, "Now take off those clothes, and come swimming with me," and flashed my best winning smile. I sashayed off and waded out into the water, reaching down to splash my fingers on the surface, for the sole purpose of tempting Severus with glimpses of cleavage, uplifted derriere, and my long brown hair swinging over my face. I glanced over my shoulder at him as I stood up, smiling to him, "Come on in, the water's fine." That was a lie, it was cold as ice, despite the warm day, but I wasn't turning back now.

"I haven't anything to wear," he said.

"Sounds perfect," I said. I looked into his eyes a moment. Do it, I thought. Do it.

Then I turned my back to him, and made my way out to deeper water, the iciness raising goosebumps on my skin with each step I took. When the water reached my waist, I decided to take the plunge, and it just about froze my lungs. It was all worth it though, because when I turned back around, I saw to my delight, that Severus had taken off his shirt and shoes. Damn, I thought, regretting that I'd gone so far away, but still pleased to see his body even at a distance. Pale, with an arrow of dark hair in the center of his chest, wide shoulders. The mere thought that I was making inroads into his resistance was turning my insides to jelly. Or maybe that was just the hypothermia.

"Come on," I called. "I need you to help me with something."

"Really? With what?" he called back, skeptically. He knew very well what I was up to.

"I've lost my top. I need you to help me find it," I laughed back.

Much to my pleasure and amazement, he rolled up his pant legs and strode into the water. It was disappointing that he didn't remove his pants, but I'd deal with that when the time came. "I hope you realize this water is going to instantly quench any fire you might have ignited in me," Severus said, with some relish. "A fortunate miscalculation on your part."

"So you admit I've ignited a fire?"

He was up to his waist now, like me suppressing reacting to the ice cold water. I could see a tattoo on his inner left forearm, a design of a skull and snake. Closer yet to me, "Fire extinguished," he announced.

We both moved towards each other now, and as I stepped towards the more shallow water, my breasts emerged from the water, nipples pointed, skin textured with the goosebumps and water droplets. I started to shiver as the air hit my skin. What on earth had I been thinking jumping in a lake in April?

As I approached Severus, he reached out to me, hand to my shoulder, then gently tracing down across my breast, I gasped as his fingers flicked across my shivering puckered nipple. Mmmm, at least I was feeling warm somewhere now.

"Delightful day for a swim, Lydia," Severus said, smirking. "I'm glad you suggested it." Then he plunged into the water, and began swimming out further. I watched as the water rippled over the muscles of his back and arms, until he was too far away.

In frustration, I began to look around for my bikini top, without much luck. How could I have been so stupid? I try to seduce a man by enticing him into the equivalent of a cold shower? I could feel my face flushing in embarrassment. Brilliant, so now my face was warm too. But the rest of me was shivering violently, even my teeth were starting to chatter, and where was my top damn it?

Severus was swimming back now, and he surfaced near me. I was going to ask him if he'd seen my top, but the words never made it out, because I was gaping at him, his hair slicked back, his chest glistening in the water and sun, his shoulders and arms exhibiting a pleasing collection of muscles. I'd never seen him looking so fine. I wanted to dig my fingers into his shoulders. I wanted to kiss his mouth, bite his cheekbones, pull his hair. I wanted to wrap my legs around him, to draw him into myself. I moved towards him as if a magnet was drawing me.

When I finally stopped holding my breath, the only words that made it out were, "you _are_ a beautiful man." And then I was kissing him, digging my fingers into his shoulders, wrapping my legs around him. And he was kissing me, holding me with his beautiful strong arms, carrying me back to the shore.

He picked up his black cloak and put it over my shoulders wrapping me in its folds. I was surprised at the softness and warmth of the material, cashmere, I wondered? Weighty though, and smelling an intoxicating blend of male, and herbs, and a smouldery smell like a freshly extinguished match.

I leaned into Severus fully. I couldn't have pushed him down onto the sand if he hadn't desired it, and this encouraged me. I was laying on top of him still kissing, our tongues exploring mouths, only imagining other undiscovered places. I straddled his hips, feeling his erection there between my legs, only damp clothing separating us.

I felt so safe, protected there, between Severus and his robes. There was no need to hold back, for either of us, I was certain. "Your pants are soaked," I murmured. "Why don't you take them off?"

"You are relentless," he declared. "But you don't know what you're asking for."

"Then enlighten me." I demanded.

"I'm not wrong to trust you, am I Lydia?" he asked.

"You can trust me," I said eagerly.

"If I look into your mind, do you promise not to search into mine?" Severus asked slowly.

"I do," I affirmed, and waited expectantly.

It had been so long, I'd almost come to believe I'd imagined the whole thing, but now the sensation hit me again, with real clarity. Severus was searching among my thoughts, looking at my interactions with the people I knew, at my phone calls to my family, my days at work. He seemed content with what he saw, and then finally he probed into my thoughts of him, which by now were a tangle of emotions, but overwhelming them all was love. He faltered at that feeling, and then I was remembering how I'd defended our relationship to Taima and even told her he was the man I loved. Severus was seeing this too, and I could feel waves of passion from him, could hear his thoughts, "Oh my love, I don't deserve this." I wasn't trying to read his thoughts, it had just come through, and Severus realized it at the same time I did. He ended the connection of our minds, as I protested defensively, "I didn't try to do that, Severus, believe me."

"I believe you," he said resignedly. "But that is why I must resist you."

"I don't understand!" I almost cried in my frustration. "Isn't it obvious we belong together? Whatever you are involved in, can't you trust me to stand by you? Didn't you see that you can trust me?"

"Yes," he said drawing out the word. "But can I trust myself?" he mused. I didn't know what he meant.

"I've been trying to find a way. I _will_ find a way." He looked into my eyes as he spoke, with such intensity and conviction that I couldn't help but believe him. "I promise, Lydia, I promise, I won't keep you waiting much longer."

We lingered a while longer, but I could tell Severus was determined to resist me. When he walked me back to my cottage, still wrapped in his robe, his parting words to me were about the necklace again. "It's important to me that you wear it. Please say you will." I agreed.

_A way. A way to reconcile my opposing allegiances , a way out of the plot that's been written by Dumbledore and apparently by destiny. Protecting Harry was my only hope of atonement, and now I'm supposed to ensure he's set up as a victim? Lily wouldn't forgive me for calling her Mudblood, she couldn't forgive me for my part in her death, but oh, surely, she'll forgive me for arranging the death of her son. Lily, Dumbledore, the Dark Lord—my loyalties have always been divided and now, my choices are impossible. To follow Dumbledore would ensure Harry's death, would ensure that I fully become Lily's worst enemy. _

_It would have been a simple solution at one time. Forget about this foolish attempt at goodness and redemption, and rededicate my loyalty to the Dark Lord. If it weren't for Lydia. _

_I can defy Dumbledore, I can defy the Dark Lord, but can I defy a prophecy? I certainly have more power and skill than Harry. Perhaps there's a way I can defeat the Dark Lord myself, at least all except that one part of him that remains within Harry. And if I spare him that, perhaps between Harry and I, we can control him, and bring a new order to the Death Eaters. A more merciful order. A more tolerant way. There must be a way. _


	18. Cobra

Oh my little self was just dripping with lustful longing as I drove home that evening. But it was a satisfying kind of longing, purely physical. My heart felt fulfilled. "My Love," Severus had thought. That was for me, I had no doubt. I'd felt the proof of his physical attraction to me, I'd felt the proof of his emotional attraction to me. And even more, he'd promised to find a way to bring us together.

I felt alive, energized. Whatever obstacles there were to a relationship with Severus, I was confident they could be overcome. I'd never experienced a connection like this to anyone. We were both flawed, but deep down, good. We could be so good together, I was sure. We'd bring out the best in each other.

My happy frame of mind had me beaming on the world, admiring the beauty of nature, loving the music that played on the radio, being extra courteous to other drivers. Even now, I moved over a lane, so that the speeding car that was fast approaching behind me, could pass with ease. In my rearview mirror, I noticed the car's sleek sporty lines, and as it drew up beside me I saw the name Cobra on its side and I noticed that its color seemed to change from green to blue. As I looked at it in admiration, it suddenly, unexpectedly swerved towards me. I reacted instinctively, jerking the wheel to turn away, and then my car was sliding out of control down the shoulder of the road.

I braced myself for the inevitable roll down the steep embankment, and when it hit, I felt a jolt, and then I was there, painfully hanging upside down, strapped into my seat. I fumbled to release myself, and with more painful jostling and fumbled with the door handle. I couldn't seem to manage to open it. I was scared and my only wish was for Severus to help me.

As if a dream come true, he was there, opening the door, bending down next to me, holding me gently. I heard him speak, but I couldn't make out what he said.

I must have lost consciousness, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up in a hospital bed, with a nurse telling me I'd had an accident, to stay calm. I was still feeling groggy, my head was wrapped in a bandage, and the one thought that I had clearly, was that Severus wasn't there with me. It was already late in the day, and the only phone call I could think to make was to work, to explain my absence. I ended up leaving a message on my boss's phone. I wanted to call Severus. I wanted him more than anything. He'd already come once when I needed him. Hadn't he? How could he have known? Had he really been there? I wasn't sure I could trust that hazy memory of him rescuing me.

The next day, I was feeling a little more alert, which meant I was more aware of the pain, and more aware that Severus was still conspicuously absent. Painfully aware that I was alone, no one by my side as the doctor explained my head injury and cracked ribs and collarbone. Driving me crazy with talk of recovery time, "anywhere from 6 weeks to 6 months to a year." Well thanks for being so precise. Then telling me of how lucky I was that I hadn't hit my head differently and ended up a vegetable, as if I had no right to be upset that I'd been run off the road, and was now in pain for a year. I had questions, but I couldn't seem to think of them quickly enough to ask. Did that mean my brain had been injured? Had I heard everything the doctor said?

I tried to think about who I should call. I wanted to call my Mum, more than anything. But I was terrified. What if? What if in this moment, hearing that I was in hospital, she still refused to forgive me? It would be unbearable.

So instead I spent the day alone, mulling over unanswered questions. Wondering if Severus had really brought me here. Wondering how long I'd have to be off work. Wondering how long my recovery would really be. Wondering what was left of my hair under the mass of bandages on my head. I was starting to feel like I was getting a reputation as a difficult patient as I got increasingly frustrated by people who didn't seem to know how I'd arrived, and were indifferent to my requests (ok—demands) that they find out. I just wanted to know if Severus knew I was here. And if he did, then where WAS he?

The police officer who arrived after lunch was probably the most helpful person I met. He listened and took notes attentively as I described the car that had swerved at me. "That's an unusual vehicle—American-made. Not too many of them around here. It should be easy to track down. Not sure we can do much, since it didn't actually hit you, and I'm sure we'll only get denials, but I'd be happy to put a little fear into a reckless driver. Some fellows get these flashy cars and seem to think they own the road. You didn't get a look at the driver by any chance?"

"I only noticed the car. Then I noticed it was about to crash into me. That was all I noticed. But if I hadn't run off the road, I'm sure it would have hit me. I hope you can do something more than put a little fear into him."

"I'll do my best," the officer promised.

Early that evening, Taima arrived, bearing flowers, and a silly card signed by everyone in the office. "Aww, sweetie," she said sympathetically when she saw me, "I'd have come yesterday, but nit-wit Nelson didn't listen to his messages until today. I should have checked up on you," she continued apologetically, "You're not the type to just not show up. I'm sorry."

"Don't think about that," I reassured her. "You couldn't have known. Not like someone else I could mention," I added darkly. I shook my head. "Maybe he doesn't know. He seems to know everything else about me though. He can find me well enough when he wants to."

"Are you talking about your boyfriend?" Taima asked. I nodded.

"You know I said I wouldn't give advice unless you asked for it," she said, in a long-suffering tone that implied exactly what her advice would be.

"Go ahead," I said grimly.

"No, honey, I can't do that to you now," she said soothingly. "You've been through enough. And honestly, you don't need me to tell you what your own heart should be able to figure out. Don't fret about it today. Time will tell, right? You just get well."

Could my heart figure this out? Severus probably had very good reasons for his absence, and Taima was right, time would tell. But right now, in my pain and worry, I couldn't help but selfishly want him to take care of me, and forget about saving the world or whatever it was he was doing.


	19. Debacle

The next day, the doctor was pleased with my progress, ready to release me just as soon as I could arrange for someone to take me home and assist me there. I kept delaying, hoping that Severus would arrive, feeling keenly the frustration of our unusual situation. Smouldering kisses and clandestine meetings are very titillating, but right now, I just wanted Severus to be an ordinary man I could ring up and say, "I need you." I was beginning to feel frantic as the day wore on and the doctor began to uncomfortably suggest that there were services available for those who have no one else to call. I hastily declined his offer to put me in touch with one of these groups. I just had to work up the nerve to call my parents. Surely they'd have pity on me. And if all else failed, I'd inflict myself on Taima, as much as I hated to be a burden on a friend and co-worker. I was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, just about to reach for the phone when Severus blew in.

I say blew in, because he burst into my hospital room in his typical dramatic fashion, _sans_ cloak, but still in full black garb, and in full fury. "We've got to get you out of here," he said, commandingly, pacing quickly about the room.

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you," I responded coolly.

This got his attention as I'd intended, and he stopped pacing and looked at me. "How are you?" he asked gravely.

"Not too bad. Other than the cracked ribs, and collarbone. And the nasty gash on my head. And the horrible hospital haircut."

"I knew the risks, getting involved with them." Severus said harshly. "I made my choice. But you have no idea what I've exposed you to." He was pacing again, his hair flying wildly every time he turned sharply to pace the other way. He continued speaking without looking at me. "I didn't think I had. I took every precaution. I don't know where I failed."

"What do you mean?" I asked, apprehensively.

"This is my fault." His face contorted as if in pain and I felt like I'd been stabbed in the heart. He did care. I wasn't sure why he was blaming himself though.

"It was an accident Severus. I thought that car was going to hit me and I overreacted."

"It was no accident." Severus was looking more agitated than I'd ever seen him. "I have no idea who, or why, but it's a typical tactic to ensure loyalty and cooperation. Although if they knew everything, you'd already be. . ." He stopped then and came over to me, kneeling down to look me in the eyes as I sat there on the bed. "I need to find out who did this. I need to look into your mind and see everything that happened."

I was happy to do this if it would reassure him. He gripped my hands, looked into my eyes and that amazing sensation of dual emotions began. My strongest feelings hit him first, and in turn, I was struck by the weight of the guilt he felt at my day of frantic fears and longing for him. It was so heartwrenching I almost wanted to stop. Severus pushed back through the dazed moments after the accident, with more guilt and anger, until he got to the moment when I saw that car. As its shimmering shifting colors and the name Cobra flashed through my mind, a jolt of rage and fear burst from Severus with shocking intensity. I'd never known him to feel fear.

Suddenly I was remembering images, memories I knew belonged to Severus. A pretty woman with auburn hair and green eyes. A feeling of intense grief and guilt. I knew it was Lily. An odd looking old man, falling back to his death, and Severus, his emotions a torrid mixture of hatred, anger, guilt and fear. What had he done? I thought in alarm, and instantly, Severus blocked me out.

I didn't know what to make of what I'd learned. It was only an instant, but I knew that man had died, and I didn't want to think it, but I kept thinking that Severus had killed him. I had no time to dwell on these thoughts, because Severus was barking instructions at me.

"I can't stop now, I've gone too far. It's too late for me to get out of this. I just need you to do as I say." I didn't respond, still trying to process my thoughts. "Lydia!" I didn't answer and he shouted, "Do you hear me?" at me with such venom, it brought tears to my eyes. He'd been rude before, hurtful even, but I'd learned to accept that as his way. This was different. This was a rage that frightened me so much, I almost didn't dare challenge him.

Instead I tried to soothe him. "Severus. Please. Calm down."

"Calm down? Your life is in danger. Do you understand?"

Fear did flood through me, as I couldn't help but wonder if he was right. He continued speaking. "If I hadn't been there, who knows what could have happened to you."

A question occurred to me. "How did you know?" I asked.

He grunted. "I always know. If I could stop knowing, stop being drawn to you, then this never would have happened."

"Severus, I'm sure it was an accident," I tried to reassure him. "But if it's not, the police were here. . ."

"The police?" he interrupted me, giving a derisive laugh. "They're not going to help you."

"They say it's an unusual car, they should be able to track it down easily," I persisted.

"And so will I," he responded imperiously. "But in the meantime, I'm going to have someone take you home and look after you. Stay there, until I come get you."

"When will that be?" I asked in dismay. Why couldn't _he_ take me home?

"You need to stop asking questions," he snapped. "Aleck!" he shouted, towards the door.

In came a very short, snub-nosed, no-necked, young man, who nervously tapped his fingers at his sides while he looked at Severus expectantly. A shiver ran through me. Toad-boy. The stalker. The person who'd been following me was working with Severus. So this was how he always knew how to find me. Why hadn't I thought of this before?

"Aleck, you know what to look out for." Severus was saying. "Take Lydia home and make sure she doesn't speak to anyone. No phone. No one gets in. She doesn't leave. If you need anything, you know who to contact."

My mind was racing. This wasn't right, was it? I was staring at Aleck, unable to shake that apprehensive feeling I'd always felt when I saw him. I was shaken out of my thoughts by Severus snarling, "And you WILL wear this." I cringed involuntarily as he reached for my neck, and then I saw that he was holding the emerald necklace and was attempting to put it on me.

He had to have broken into my flat, I realized in alarm. Everything was happening so quickly, I didn't have time to analyze all the facts that were suddenly coming to light, but alarm bells were ringing like crazy in my head, and all those red flags I'd cheerfully ignored were once again clamoring for my attention. He had me followed, he broke into my home, he was shouting at me, and I'd seen in his mind the anger, hatred, and violence he was capable of. What more did I need to know?

I reacted instinctively, pushing his hands away and yelling, "What are you doing?" I didn't know what was going on, I only knew I was scared, and doubts were flooding my mind. I'd never seen Severus like this, and now he was telling some strange henchman to hold me captive, supposedly under the guise of protecting me. But who did I really need protection from?

I had to play for time, surely a nurse or someone would come by soon. I needed to placate Severus long enough to get away from him and think this through. I stopped struggling and spoke to Severus calmly, trying to sound firm and logical. "I don't understand this, and if you can't or won't explain, then how can you expect me to follow blindly? I don't know this man." I nodded towards Aleck. "And I certainly don't want him in my home." I looked at Severus, searching his eyes for a glimmer of the man I thought I knew. "If you're that worried about me, let me just stay with a friend."

"No," sneered Severus, drawing out the word. "You will _not_ be bringing any friends into this debacle."

That did it. I might tremble before the enraged Severus, but I would not back down to his condescension. "I'm not doing it," I declared. "I will not go anywhere with him. You can both leave right now." I looked for the button to summon the nurse.

"Not without you," Severus growled. "Now let me put this necklace on you," he said, in a slightly calmer tone, trying to pacify me.

The necklace. Why was that so important to him? A chilling realization came to me. It was probably some sort of tracking device. Maybe even a recording device.

I flinched away from his hands again. "Bloody hell, Lydia," Severus burst out, "You should have listened when I told you to stay away from me. Now, it's too late. I don't have time to argue with you. You _will_ do as I say." At that he pushed me face down onto the bed and held me down with his body. I flailed at him with one free hand, but he still managed to slide the necklace under my throat and fasten it. He released me then, and as I sat up, I immediately tried to remove the necklace, but Severus gripped both my wrists in his hands with bruising strength.

I tried to fling his hands off of me and he released my wrists, but my freedom was short-lived, because he immediately grabbed my arm and shoved me toward Aleck, before I even had a moment to react.

Then with one of them on each arm, they dragged and forced me out of the room and down the hall. I started yelling at them, planning to attract attention, but Severus dug his fingers into my shoulder, said "_Silencio"_, and I felt too paralyzed by fear to speak another word.

No one even seemed to notice us as we left the hospital. Aleck dragged me to a car. "Tie her up if you must," Severus snarled to Aleck. "And make sure she wears that bloody necklace."

"Nothing to worry about sir," Aleck replied smugly, pulling a pair of handcuffs off his belt buckle. With expert quickness he flicked one of the cuffs around my wrist and wrenched my arm behind my back. I struggled and kicked at him, but despite his short stature he was strong, and I was still weak and in pain from the car accident. My attempts at self-defense moves were in vain, and in no time, he had both my hands locked behind my back.

As he pushed me into the car, I looked helplessly at Severus' back. He was striding away swiftly. Aleck slammed the door shut as I shouted, "Severus!"

_Am I doomed to live a lifetime without a single good thing? I've brought it upon myself. As always. Worse, what have I brought upon Lydia? I've condemned her to a death sentence._


	20. Prisoner

Aleck drove me home, waiting in the car until the street was deserted, then hustled me up to my flat, with a hand clapped firmly over my mouth. I was sick with frustration with my powerlessness, but every effort I made to struggle left me blinded with pain. And to think I'd left the hospital without getting more pain medication.

Inside, Aleck released his grip over my mouth to bolt the door, and I immediately began screaming. Aleck was unperturbed. "There's no point in doing that. Snape has taken care of everything. No one will hear you."

I kept screaming for help in spite of his claims, while he unfastened one of the handcuffs and refastened it to the door handle of the refrigerator. I paused from my screaming to berate Aleck. "Seriously? You're going to leave me standing here handcuffed to the refrigerator? I swear, I'll knock it over and squash you with it if I have to, you ugly toad, you."

"I'll bring you a chair," he replied. I didn't bother sitting in it at first, I just continued screaming and yes, literally dragging the refrigerator a few inches, while Aleck watched with an air of amusement. Why weren't any of my neighbors knocking on my door? Was Aleck right? What had Severus done? Where was everyone?

I fell silent. "Do you believe me now?" Aleck asked, snidely.

I sat down and despite my intention to not show weakness, I started crying. Aleck snorted derisively, and then sat down himself at the kitchen table. He seemed restless, shuffling through the papers I had left there, newspapers, odd bits and pieces of mail and bills.

All I had were my thoughts to occupy me. Echoes of past conversations with Severus ran through my mind. "I have killed before. I'm not a good man. It's so hard for me to align myself with the losing side. I play the part of evil, and it feels good. Doesn't evil always win?" What was he really?

Perhaps Severus was indeed in fear for my safety, I decided that much was true, but that didn't mean his motives were pure. If he was really an undercover agent, he'd have access to respectable, official people to provide protection for me, wouldn't he? I remembered him scornfully saying the police wouldn't help me.

I was frightened, but worse, heartsick . It was starting to seem to me that I had fallen in love with a bad man. Taima had asked me, "Is this the life you want?" Why was this question so hard for me to answer? Why did I feel so torn about this? This is how those mafia wives must feel I thought. It was all well and good to keep telling myself _he's one of the good guys, he's just trying to protect me_. Maybe he _was_ trying to protect me, but that didn't mean he was a good guy. Oh fuck, why did I still want to see him so badly? I wanted to know everything, and yet I wasn't even sure if knowing everything would end the longing I felt for the man. How did I get so twisted? This was how women ended up in horrible relationships, making excuses for the worst behaviour, going back for more, when all signs pointed to "No!"

Other memories of Severus ran though my mind, memories of passionate kisses, of our minds merging together, emotional memories rising. How many times had I felt doubts about Severus, only to find myself reassured when I was with him? He'd hinted to me enough of his struggles with good and evil, and I'd even gone so far as to say to him, "I don't care who you are or what you've done."

That was it. That was the compelling overriding passion that was consuming me with this man. And the frightening truth that I had to admit to myself. I didn't care. There was something about his confidence (arrogance), power (brutality) and intelligence (superiority) that I couldn't resist, regardless of what adjective I used to describe him. Was it the inkling of regret, remorse? Did I think I could be the one to change him? That was unrealistic, wishful thinking, wasn't it?

My thoughts continued to run in these circles, fatiguing me. After a while I complained to Aleck that I needed to eat and to sleep. I'd just been in hospital, I reminded him. Although it occurred to me, I was feeling a little better. Perhaps with a good night's sleep, I could be strong enough to take him off guard, and escape.

Aleck grudgingly made some sandwiches. I had a great view of his progress, tethered there to the refrigerator like I was, but I didn't make any effort to fight him. I'd bide my time.

I had to get quite vociferous before he relented and would let me sleep in my bedroom. He spent quite some time in there, rearranging my furniture, so he could handcuff me to the radiator. That night, I slept soundly, despite my intention to try to free myself in the middle of the night while hopefully Aleck was sleeping. I woke in the morning to daylight and groggily tried to sit up. The handcuffs held me back, and as I tried to get my bearings, I saw Aleck standing beside me, staring at me.

I tried to speak but felt like my tongue was still asleep. "I need to go to the loo," I managed to mumble. Aleck unlocked me, and escorted me to the bathroom. I stumbled my way there, my foggy brain just barely realizing that I must have been drugged. I'm pretty sure Aleck watched me relieve myself before he took me back to the bed and locked me up again. I must have fallen back asleep, because the next time I woke, the room was dim, as if it were dusk. There was a glass of water and a plate of toast on an end table that had been dragged next to the bed. I was thirsty and I drained the glass of water in nearly one gulp.

I demanded to use the bathroom again, and again Aleck escorted me. This time, I was more alert and demanded that he turn his back. Did he think I was going to escape through the shower drain? There were no windows. Afterward he dragged me back to the bedroom and locked me up again. "Do you want anything else to eat?" he asked gruffly.

"I'll take a steak, thanks." I said sarcastically.

"I'd like that too," he answered grumpily. "But we're stuck with the measly contents of your kitchen."

"I'll just pop out to the grocer," I retorted. Aleck merely "harrumphed," and left the room. I considered the toast. It was rather raggedy looking as if Aleck had attempted to spread it with cold hard butter. I picked up a clammy piece. I was ravenous, so I took a bite. Then as I was slowly chewing the unappetizing morsel, and fighting the dizziness that was still plaguing me, I realized that Aleck must have drugged my food. I spit it out and flung the plate on the floor. How could I have been so stupid? I even drank that whole glass of water! I thought vaguely about trying to vomit, but I was tired and dizzy and just wanted to lie down.

When I woke, it was daylight again, and another glass of water sat on table next to the bed. I sat up, and evaluated my state of being. I felt refreshed, alert. The drug must have worn off. I poured the water out onto the carpet between the bed and the wall, hoping that Aleck wouldn't see the puddle, and would think I'd drank another dose. And then I called him.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully. I saw he eyes focus on the empty glass. "Or perhaps, good afternoon."

"I need to go to the bathroom," I informed him. "And I'd really like to clean up and change my clothes. I've been wearing these since Sunday."

He looked at me a moment, considering, then headed to the bathroom, to check it for escape exits, I assumed. Finding none, he released me from the handcuffs, while holding my arm tightly in his hand. I tried to pull away from him, but he said, "I can lock you back up if you'd prefer," so I didn't try to get away. He started to lead me to the bathroom.

"Can I get some clothes?" I griped.

"Yeah," he muttered, following me still attached to my arm as I gathered clean underwear, jeans, and a shirt. He didn't seem too shy about leering at my knickers before I slammed the drawer shut. Then I led the way to the bathroom, and quickly dashed inside and locked the door before he decided to follow me in there.

"I'll be right here waiting for you," he called through the door.

_Enjoy the wait_, I thought. I'd enjoy my privacy with a long shower. But first, I saw my reflection in the mirror. Ugh, I looked a wreck. Bandages still on my head. And there was that necklace. I took it off defiantly, hurled it in the corner of the counter top, then started crying as I remembered the day Severus had given it to me, remembering how special and loved I'd felt. Had I imagined it all? But why would he even go to any trouble to see me at all if he didn't care?

It was a little while before I felt I'd cried that out, but finally I took a deep breath. I'd feel better after I took a shower. Then I saw my bandaged head in the mirror again, and remembered unhappily that the doctor had told me not to get the stitches wet. No showers, he'd said, for how long? I couldn't remember. But my head didn't hurt too much. Maybe Aleck's drugs were better than the doctor's. I decided to unwrap the bandaging and take a look for myself.

As I pulled the wrappings away, I was dismayed to see my hair chopped short at the right side of my head around the cut. I leaned close to the mirror to look at the area as best I could. I could see black stitches, the dark color of dried blood, the orangy color of the disinfecting solution, and a bright pink ridge of a scar beginning to form. Disgusting. I moved back and surveyed my overall appearance. My hair was a hideous tangled mess. I decided not to risk a shower. And I should probably get a bandage back on that cut.

I rummaged around in the cabinet looking for the first aid kit, then remembered it was in my car. Which was somewhere in a garage somewhere waiting for repairs. As I pulled out a pink plastic container piled with makeup, I saw my hair scissors. I only ever used them to trim split ends but now I looked at them wondering if I could make some improvement on my hair. What did I have to lose? I had a big chunk chopped out of it anyway, and I couldn't wash or style it. Normally I would have left this up to a professional, but I was in no hurry to leave the bathroom and rejoin Aleck, so I started snipping.

If you've ever cut your own hair, you know that you reach a certain point where there's no going back. It was not an improvement. Not the attempt at face framing layers, not my sorry approximation of a short bob, and not my end result of a sloppy looking boys cut, at which point I stopped in utter frustration, and tears.

The tears were not just about my hair, but about the whole situation, which I'd been turning over and over in my head all the while. I was angry with Severus for keeping me prisoner like this. I'd gone back and forth repeatedly over whether his mysterious secret mission was legitimate or nefarious and was still undecided. But regardless, I had decided, he was wrong not to trust me with the truth. After reading my mind? After all the times I'd listened to him, reassured him? After all this time that I'd patiently waited for him? If he'd been following me, he should know that he had nothing to fear from me. Unless of course he'd turned to the evil, like he'd hinted at before.

This is what made me cry. I never thought he really would. I could tell he was tempted, frustrated at times, but I always believed that ultimately he would do the right thing. How could I have been so wrong? But perhaps I wasn't wrong. Perhaps he just couldn't see another way. Maybe, caveman-like, he thought he had to defend his woman even while he dragged her about by the hair. Figuratively. And there I went. . . going back and forth again, while I undressed and considered whether I could even take a bath.

I did feel quite good physically, so I unwound the bandaging around my ribs and bent gently. No pain. I guess spending two days drugged and handcuffed to bed is a new miracle cure. Not that I'd be thanking Aleck for it any time soon. Or Severus either. And as the man came back to my mind, the tears came back to my eyes. I drew a steamy hot bath, and I soaked and sobbed, until it grew cold.

I climbed out of the cold bath, still relishing the privacy of the bathroom, especially since tears kept bursting forth. I didn't want to sit in front of Aleck, sniffling, wiping my nose with one hand, chained to a household appliance by the other. I continued to occupy myself in the bathroom. It wasn't too hard. I am female after all. A pedicure, a manicure, some eyebrow tweezing, lotions and full makeup, which did thankfully help compensate a little for the bad hair and pudgy red nose from excessive crying.

All this activity took quite some time. Aleck had inquired a few times about my progress, and I'd only snapped, "I'm busy," in reply. I heard him drag a chair, so he probably was sitting right outside the door. Well, let him.

Eventually, I was starting to feel hungry, and bored. I finished dressing, glancing again at the necklace on the counter, stubbornly refusing to put it on. Maybe Aleck wouldn't notice. Then my eye fell on the scissors. A weapon. Perhaps I could manage to escape. I slipped the scissors into the front pocket of my jeans, checking to see that my shirt covered the handle. I considered rushing from the bathroom and attacking Aleck, but then thought better of it. If I failed I wouldn't get another chance.

My judgment proved right, because I emerged from the bathroom to find Aleck immediately rising from his chair facing the door. He grabbed my arm quickly.

"Can't we give this a rest?" I complained. "I get it. You're not going to let me go. Just tell me this. Have you heard from Severus? Is he coming soon?"

"Sev-er-us?" Aleck queried, mockingly.

"Yes," I huffed. "He did say I was to stay here until he came. So when is he coming?"

"I don't know," he said in a childish sing-song, clearly amused at my plight. I hated him, but I tried to choke down my anger and pretend to be compliant.

"I know he told you to tie me up if you had to, but I think you misinterpreted that a little. You don't have to tie me up. I'm quite capable of waiting for Severus. As I'm sure you well know." It was working. He hadn't yet tried to put the handcuffs on me, and his grip on my arm was slack. "Can we make a deal? If Severus doesn't come before tonight, you can handcuff me for the night again. But please, don't make me spend the rest of the day attached to the refrigerator. I'll just sit down and watch the telly. I won't be any trouble. I promise."

Oh wonder of wonders, he agreed. I did have to endure him sitting right next to me, commanding the remote control in the annoying way men do. I closed my eyes often, pretending to be sleepy so he'd think I was still somewhat drugged. After a while, he stood up, gave me a considering look. "What?" I asked.

"Either I cuff you again, or you come with me."

"Where to?" I asked.

He tilted his head towards the bathroom. "As long as I don't have to watch," I grumbled. I followed him and stood outside the open door with my back to him, unable to shut out the drizzling sound of his stream. What a pleasant afternoon, I thought sarcastically, then jumped in fright as he was reaching around my neck.

"You forgot this," he said. The necklace again. I let him put it on me without any struggle. And then we peacefully returned to the couch and the telly. My stomach was rumbling with hunger. I hadn't eaten all day. I wasn't sure if Aleck had. Eventually he'd want to eat, if only for an excuse to serve me some more drugs. I heard a jingling as Aleck shifted in his seat. His car keys. I would need to get Aleck's keys. My own car was a wreck. And Aleck had managed to park conveniently nearby. I wouldn't have to run far. I dismissed the idea of seeking help from others in the building. If they hadn't responded to my screams, I didn't even want to know why. Should I go to the police? Severus had said they wouldn't help me. But maybe he had his own reasons for avoiding the police.

What if they caught him, I thought. What if I go to the police, tell them everything I know (what _did_ I know?) and Severus ends up in prison? I was unprepared for the wave of sadness that hit me at this thought. I tried to shake the feeling off. What would I tell the police? Aleck would be long gone by the time they investigated, they'd just take a report and move on. Maybe this was the time for me to show up at my parent's door unannounced. Although I didn't know what I'd tell them.

Suddenly I realized that Aleck was staring at me. "Let's eat," he said abruptly. I'm sure he was growing suspicious of my sleepy act, and was ready to slip me another dose. We headed to the kitchen, and I sat at the table, compliantly, while Aleck assembled some food, complaining all the while about the poor selection of my tins of soup. I was hungry, so I tried a little ploy of requesting a glass of water after Aleck had set the two bowls of soup down. While he was at the tap, I very cleverly switched our bowls, and then eagerly began to eat.

Aleck seemed satisfied to see me eating, and he ate his own soup with no hesitation. After I'd finished, I dropped my spoon clumsily, and said, yawning sleepily, "I'm still hungry. Isn't there an orange or something in the refrigerator?" Aleck got up to look, and I rose quietly as he peered inside. I was sure the keys were in his right pocket, which meant I had to wield the scissors with my weaker left hand. I crept up behind him in two steps and like a flash, grabbed into his pocket.

The keys were in my grip, and my wrist was in Aleck's grip. I stabbed at his arm with the scissors, drawing blood. He released me, cursing loudly. "I'm supposed to be protecting you, you bitch. Do you want to make me hurt you?"

"Protecting me? You're keeping me prisoner in my own home, that's what you're doing. What are you protecting me from?" I demanded, clutching the keys, pointing the scissors at him, trying to decide if I dared turn my back on him to try to outrun him to the door.

He lunged for me then, and I ran, but he tackled me before I could get to the door. I struck at him again with the scissors. Aleck deflected a few of my blows, but then I nicked his hand, and as he yelped in pain, I shot a blow to his face. He leaped back, howling some more, and I stood back up. Only problem was, he was between me and the door. He stood there, hand clasped to his cheek, complaining. "You could have put my eye out. I don't even know why I'm doing this. It's not like Snape gives a shit about Muggles. Or Squibs either, for that matter."

I froze. There it was again, that word "Muggles."

"Why are you doing this then?" I asked cautiously, not revealing my ignorance.

"Because he's paying me. And because I know better than to refuse someone with that kind of power." At this he seemed to come back to his senses, and once again tried to persuade me not to leave. "I don't know why you're trying to run off. He doesn't want to hurt you. Just stay here. Who knows what will happen if you leave."

"What's a Muggle?" I asked.

I could see comprehension registering on his face. "Oh!" he said gleefully. "You don't even know." And then with smug satisfaction, he said, "I'll tell you. And then maybe you won't be so eager to disobey your precious _Sev-er-us_." He said the name in a sniggering tone.

I exchanged the keys and scissors to opposite hands as I waited.

"Muggles," Aleck said, patronizingly, "are non-magical people." He continued matter-of-factly, as I looked at him blankly. "You see, there are Magical people, wizards and witches, and then there are Non-Magical people. Muggles. You."

I had to scoff at his pompous earnestness. "Fine, don't tell me."

"You don't believe me?" Aleck griped. "It's the truth. And your precious Severus, is one of, if not _the_ closest Wizard to the Dark Lord."

Oh my God, a fucking Dark Lord? I shook my head. What was all of this? Some kind of secret society? A satanic cult? A terrorist organization? Or maybe, if I was lucky, it was just your average everyday gang of common criminals with a penchant for dramatic street-names.

"So, what's a Squib?" I demanded brazenly.

"A Squib, is the offspring of Magical parents, who does not have the gift of Magic," Aleck replied, sounding miffed.

"You?" I asked, perceiving his discomfort. I took his tight-lipped glare to be assent.

That seemed a little too bizarre for a gang of criminals. I could imagine thugs self-styling themselves as Wizards and Dark Lords, but Squibs? I needed to know what I was really dealing with here.

"I don't believe you," I told Aleck. "Just tell me what really going on. Is Severus in a gang? Some kind of criminal organization? A cult? You might as well just tell me. You're going to lock me back up anyway."

This seemed to convince him, satisfy him, but his response didn't satisfy me.

"I'm telling you the truth. The world is full of Magical people. For years, they've been content to stay out of Muggle business and to keep themselves to themselves, so to speak. But the Dark Lord delights in interfering with Muggles if it serves his desires. Perhaps you haven't noticed the increasing numbers of tragedies these past two years. That's the Dark Lord at work. And his Death Eaters."

"Death Eaters?"

"His followers. Severus Snape among them."

I frowned, digesting this story.

"For whatever reason," said Aleck, "Severus wants to keep you alive. I'd strongly recommend that you go along with that plan. If not for yourself, think of me. I'd like to stay in his good graces. That's why I've been working for him. In secret of course. We Squibs don't have much influence. I need to make sure I have a friend in high places."

Could this be true? It would explain the mind-reading and all that talk of good and evil. No. The whole idea was ludicrous. Even if Aleck seemed to have such conviction in his story, surely he was just a gullible follower who'd been tricked. Why was I feeling such dread? It could not be true. I wouldn't believe it unless I heard it from Severus himself.

"I need to talk to Severus. Can you get him here?"

"I can't summon him like a House Elf," Aleck objected, in a whiney voice. "Don't you understand I'm a Squib? And he's the next in power to the Dark Lord? I just say, yes sir, no sir, and hope not to get killed."

"Then I'll need to go find him. And don't think you can stop me, Squib. I'm no ordinary Muggle. Why do you think Severus is so interested in me?" Hopefully, that little bluff would intimidate him a bit.

Instead, it just drove him more frantic to persuade me. "You have no idea what he's capable of. He killed the Headmaster of the school in front of dozens of witnesses. Then he took over as Headmaster, as if he'd done nothing wrong, and no one dares to challenge him."

"No," I said slowly, unwillingly thinking of that old man I'd seen dying in Severus' memories.

"His childhood rivals?" Aleck continued, "Dead. Even the girl he'd once loved."

"Lily?" I gasped, ice gripping my heart.

"He's told you about her, has he?" said Aleck. "Did he tell you he murdered her? Do you think he'd make an exception for you if you disobey him?"

"No!" I shouted. "You're lying. It's all lies. How would you even know such things?"

Aleck shrugged, "Everyone in the Wizarding world knows it. My parents. My mother knew Lily in school. For a while there, it was all hush-hush. When it seemed the Dark Lord had been destroyed, many people were given the benefit of the doubt—claiming they weren't acting of their own volition. But now, the Dark Lord is back, and Snape is working with him. There's no denying it now. Never was, I say. Snape has always been too strong to be someone's pawn. Why anyone would have ever believed he didn't fully participate before, I can't imagine."

A million thoughts were burning through my mind in a confusion of emotion. I saw Aleck's sneering face before me flicker with a puzzled expression as he wobbled a little. _He __had__ drugged the soup! _I thought triumphantly. I charged at him, and knocked him aside easily.

Out the door, down the stairs, to Aleck's car I raced. As I drove away, I looked behind me in the mirror. In the deepening dusk, I could see no sign of Aleck following me.


	21. Dungeon

I was driving frantically, yet unthinkingly, focused only on putting distance between me and Aleck. But I soon realized I was en route to the lake. Why? What was wrong with me? Seeking out Severus when he'd had me held prisoner? And in light of these absurd, yet disturbing accusations? What was I thinking?

I'd always assumed Lily's death had been an accident. But I realized now, I'd never known for sure. A house fire could have been arson. It could have been set to destroy the scene of a crime. Severus hadn't given any details, and I hadn't asked. Had he indeed murdered her? Did he possess magical powers as Aleck had accused? Had this psychic connection between us been some kind of spell? As terrifying as these thoughts were, more terrifying was my awareness that although I was feeling fear, it was only a tangential feeling, barely hovering above the ragged desire and love that had firmly entrenched into my being.

I did love Severus, just as once upon a time, I'd loved Alan. I'd rejected Alan, cruelly, just because he didn't meet my selfish expectations. I had convinced myself to ignore my heart, and I'd never be able to undo that mistake. But now, I couldn't repeat my offense and turn my back on Severus. Not without confronting him, not without giving him a chance to explain himself. And even if the worst was true, even if he was somehow being lured by evildoers, I would plead with him to give it up, to be the man I knew he could be. A good man.

A wizard? No. Impossible. That had to be some delusion of Aleck's. Some kind of fantasy world—a role playing game gone dreadfully wrong—acted out by a group of deviants and lunatics. Oh god, no. Not my Severus. This could not be true. Nothing mattered to me now, except finding Severus and hearing him deny these accusations. I wasn't even thinking about my safety. If it was true, that Severus was evil, that he'd murdered Lily, then I couldn't meekly wait for him to come back and dominate me, to leave my heart and life in shambles. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be true, but I had to find him.

By the time I reached that familiar parking spot, the sun had set. In the darkness, I could barely see the steps to the overlook; it would be nearly impossible to traverse the mile over the dunes. In dismay, I thought about searching Aleck's car for a torch, but then I saw with an involuntary heartleap of joy, Severus, stalking towards me swiftly. He began shouting before he even reached me.

"What," he snapped, face full of rage, "are you doing here? You need to stay at home. Safe. Let that boy take care of you." He was an imposing figure in the dim lights of the parking lot, eyes flashing, teeth bared, hair flying around his head in the light breeze of the evening. It was frightening and yet also devastatingly sexy.

I was already prepared for confrontation, so his rude mood only sparked my simmering rage. "That boy," I responded, mimicking his tone, "had some interesting things to say about you." I looked him in the eyes, which today were hard, cold, not a trace of kindness. "Did you murder Lily?" I asked bluntly.

"Who told you this?" he demanded. "Aleck?" I nodded. "That ignorant twit," Severus snarled.

"Did you murder Lily?" I asked again, my voice cracking.

Severus gazed at me with a look of disbelief and said icily, pointing an accusing finger at me, "I told you about her, myself. I told you more than I've told anyone. And you accepted it. Now, you're here to accuse me?"

"There's a difference," I protested, unwilling to accept any guilt he was trying to thrust my way, "There's a difference between murder, and 'I didn't save her, it's my fault she died.'"

"You never asked for more. I told you as much as I could, and you believed in me." His eyes probed, but we were both locking our minds, "You made me believe in myself."

He hadn't denied anything. Emboldened, reckless I blurted, "Aleck says you're a wizard, that you have magical powers." It sounded too crazy to believe, he was going to laugh at me, but he didn't and I continued, "How do I know you haven't literally cast some spell on me to make me feel this way about you?" I paused, but then carried on, as he stared at me. "I sound crazy. But I know you have secrets. That everything isn't what it seems. I've trusted you all this time, I haven't questioned you enough. Don't I deserve to hear the truth from you? All of it?"

"All of it?" he asked skeptically. "A week ago, you were seducing me, taking off your clothes, offering "all of it" to me. No questions, no reservations. Now you're demanding answers? Accusing _me_ of casting spells on _you_?"

"That was before I got run down by a car, only to hear you blaming yourself," I argued.

"You said yourself it was an accident," he retorted.

This was intolerable. He was intolerable. What was the matter with me, either I believed him, or I didn't. Some part of me desperately wanted to hold on to my naïve fantasies. But there were too many unanswered questions, memories of past conversations now playing back in my mind with new and confusing meaning.

"I want the truth," I said stubbornly.

"You're better off not knowing," he replied.

"It's too late for that," I railed. "How can I be better off with half-truths and rumors? I already know you. I know the truth of my feelings. I need the rest."

He considered this silently for a moment, then snapped, "very well." Before I could even rejoice at my triumph, he strode forward and pulled a slim stick like a pointer out from his robes. With a flick of his wrist, he uttered an unfamiliar word, and "broom." I felt a rush of air as an object whisked past me, into Severus' hand. It was a broom, but of a handmade appearance, a polished smooth wooden handle, and a tight bundle of broomstraws at its end. Severus slid it between his legs as if accustomed to doing so, and then said to me brusquely, "Get on," gesturing towards the area in front of him. "Or have you changed your mind about the truth?"

I stepped astride the broomstick in front of Severus. "Hold the handle," he commanded, and then wrapped his arms tightly around me, his hands gripping the broomstick over mine. We lifted off the ground and flew into the moonlit night. I was too shocked to even find a bit of humor in the concept of Severus as Wizard, riding a broom, like a kitschy Halloween witch. My heart was pounding as we soared through the sky. The cool evening air brushed my cheeks and hair, I could feel Severus' body against mine, his arms strong around me. I could feel the subtle flexing of his muscles as he guided the broom and for a moment, confident in his skill, I forgot to be afraid. I scanned the scenery below as we flew over the sand dunes, gleaming palely in the fresh moonlight, over the glistening lake to the deserted hills, where suddenly to my amazement, an enormous castle loomed, with towers and parapets, courtyards and massive doors. Severus guided the broom to an opening at a high tower and landed inside.

My legs were shaking so violently as I dismounted the broom that I fell to the rough stone floor with a yelp of pain. "Silencio!" Severus commanded, and I was powerless to speak. He took my arm and hurried me through a maze of corridors and stairways. Several quick changes of direction ensured we encountered no one on our way. Severus led faster than I'd thought I could go, through corridors, down staircases, through massive wooden doors, finally to a windowless room, with towering ceilings, and stone walls.

This gloomy room was dimly lit by firelight and candles, and in the flickering light, the room appeared to be part workshop, part bedroom. An ornate four poster bed, with towering and elaborately carved bedposts, stood prominently at the center of the longest wall. All around the room were shelves full of books; along one side, a table covered with bottles, more books, and yes, even a cauldron. I couldn't help but notice the alarming quantity of knives, of various sizes and shapes, lined up neatly on a cloth next to the cauldron. It was all very medieval-looking. I wouldn't have been shocked to see some instruments of torture.

I looked at Severus in alarm. "Here it is," he said, speaking with exaggerated pompousness. "This is where I live, and teach. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And yes, I am indeed a wizard." He gave a mocking flourish of his hand as if he was awaiting applause. "Hmmm, what?" he asked in mock question, raising one eyebrow, "You want to know, am I a good wizard or a bad wizard?" He gave a little smirk, and then answered, "Oh, I am an exceptional wizard."

That tangential fear I'd felt before, was now an all overpowering force. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my legs trembling, and in my frenzied mind, I could almost hear the clicking of all the pieces falling into place, as the past years reshuffled into a new, frightening, picture of a world I'd never imagined was real.

Severus continued speaking imperiously, "I know you think you have the right to know everything. But I assure you, you do not."

"Did you murder Lily?" I insisted, despite my shaking hands. Why was this so urgent to me? What if he said yes?

Severus glowered at me, and then thrust up his sleeve to reveal the skull and snake tattoo I'd seen before. "This is the mark of the Dark Lord," he stated. "I obtained it willingly. I served him devotedly. I knew it meant Lily was my enemy, and I didn't care. The Dark Lord chose to do the deed himself, but I supported his rise to power, I did nothing to stop him. Did I murder Lily? Not with my own hands, but with all my heart, I'm guilty of her death."

My heart dropped at this confession. Not an accident. A deliberate act of evil. How, I thought? I felt betrayed by every sweet thought I'd had for Severus.

I fought back tears and asked, "I don't understand, Severus. You loved her. How can you still follow him? Do you feel no remorse? All these years, have you just been avoiding punishment for your part in his crimes?"

He replied bitterly. "This is my punishment." He brandished his arm, fist clenched tight, displaying the Dark Lord's mark. "To be forever linked with the Dark Lord. Until he's defeated, or until the day I die."

The tears were streaming down my face now. I was going to die here, I was sure of it. I was in love with a murderer, and he was going to kill me. How did I ever get so twisted? I was terrified, but I tried to resign myself to my fate. Whatever bizarre course of destiny I'd been following had led me here, and I was sure I had no way out. The thought flashed to me that perhaps it was my destiny to be Severus' saving grace, his one last hope of rejecting evil.

"If you murder me," I said boldly, "I forgive you." Was this me speaking? I was so astounded at myself, I forgot to steel my mind against Severus' probing eyes.

I could see amazement register on his face as he read in my mind the truth of my words. "How can you mean that?" he asked. "I don't deserve forgiveness." He flung off his cloak, and pulled out his wand, which to my alarm he pointed at me. He looked impressive and terrifying with that steely glare, dressed head to toe in black. My body tensed in fear.

As Severus stood there, hand and wand pointed at me, he spoke, his voice still harsh, bitter. "I never understood how my mother could love a Muggle. My father didn't understand us at all. He thought Magic was just some kind of heritage she could reserve for special occasions. He thought it was a sport that I could participate in at my leisure. And when I asked my mother how she could tolerate his ignorance, she chastised me, said that _I_ didn't understand _him_, and gave me no answer except that she loved him."

"Now, I'm looking at you. Muggle. Lydia. Wondering how you have such power over me. Even the most skilled Wizards are unable to create a potion or spell to cause someone to fall in love. But an ordinary Muggle can hold a Prince in thrall." Severus shook his head and drew back his hand and wand, as if preparing to strike.

"I have no power over you, Severus," I replied, desperate to delay him from whatever he was preparing to do. "It's your own heart you must answer to. As I must to mine. That alone is the reason I run to you, when logically I should be running from you. With all my heart, I believe there is good in you. You _can_ choose it."

I could feel him probing into my mind, in quick flickering attempts, unwilling to linger lest I read him in return. But even without those momentary glimpses into his thoughts, I would have been able to sense his passionate desire for me.

"I've tried to keep you safe," he said. "I've tried to resist this. But you've made it impossible. Now that you're here, now that you know what I am, I see no reason why I shouldn't take advantage of your offer."

I was confused. What offer? To forgive him of murdering me?

"Undress, please," he said.

Now? After all the longing? After all my attempts at seduction? But I supposed it made sense in a way. He'd always said he wanted to wait until there were no secrets between us. I had told him I didn't care who he was or what he'd done. I felt like I was beholden to those words. I can't say if I pushed beyond my new fears, or if they only made him more enticing. But I did it—I began to undress, and as I did, Severus spoke a word and flicked his wand. I felt a shot of energy course through me and for an instant I thought, _This is it, he's killing me_. But then I felt my hair begin to grow, the short choppy locks lengthening into abundant cascading curling waves, forming a curtain over my naked body, trailing on the floor. As I looked in amazement, lifting the shining strands in my hands, I began to rise into the air. Severus was pointing the wand again, speaking "_Wingardium Leviosa"_. He sent me floating across the room and gently laid me on the black silky covers of the bed. The tendrils of my new hair curled around my wrists, and fastened them to the bedposts.

A loud crash, almost like thunder penetrated the walls. Severus looked up to the ceiling, and then with a wave of his wand, music began emanating from an organ-like contraption in the room. The music swelled loudly, drowning out all other sound, with its minor key of electronic and orchestral tones strangely juxtaposed with resounding driving bass notes. This was all too intense, I felt like the music was pounding in my head, like my heart and my very core were throbbing too.

From atop the satiny black covers, I watched Severus. His stern eyes were fixed on mine as he flicked his wand again, and all the buttons of his long tunic jacket unbuttoned simultaneously. He shrugged off the jacket; another flick of the wand sent it neatly to a nearby chair.

Severus put down his wand and strode towards the bed. Oh, he _was_ killing me, with desire, with passion. I wanted to leap at him, to rip off the soft white shirt he was wearing under that coat, to slide my hands along his legs and thighs, and then…

He stared at me, as he took off his shirt, and I stared back at his shoulders and chest, the contrast of the manly hair on his arms with his smooth but masculine shoulders.

"I didn't think I would," he murmured quietly, "but I need you, now."

My lips were longing to cover his beautiful mouth, but I was unable to move, as he removed his pants, not magically, but by hand, enticingly. His other wand was ready, and I noted with satisfaction that I hadn't been misled by the proportions of his large nose and long fingers.

I had only a moment to gaze at him, naked, lovely, before he climbed onto the bed and slid next to me, looking at me with those intense eyes as he stroked his hand along my arm, from my bound wrist, towards my body, across my breast, while I moaned in pleasure. His hands continued in gentle caresses everywhere on my body until I felt like my every nerve was reaching for him. And then he covered my body with his, his legs along mine, his hips pressed to my hips, his arms supporting him, biceps like rocks, as he looked down on me. I wanted to reach for him, wrap my arms around his neck, pull his lips to mine, forgetting for a moment that I was tied by my own hair, until I felt it being pulled. I reluctantly relaxed my arms, as Severus responded to my desire, lowering his chest down upon me, hand on the back of my neck, his lips pressing to mine, devouring me, but oh so gently. Kissing my mouth, my neck, murmuring sexy deep growls into my ears. Every kiss he pressed to me was warm, full, gentle, communicating to me the sincerity of his feelings more clearly than any words or thoughts had ever done.

I was ready, so ready for him, and I could only use my legs to try to wrap around him, to draw him into me. I was longing for him to enter my mind as well as my body, but he was still cautious, entering in brief pulses, taking in a tortured loving thought, swelling with passion at it, retreating quickly. Our bodies followed the rhythm of our minds, working together towards ecstasy, as Severus thrust, rocked, consumed me, as I demanded, "More, you can't hurt me, I don't care what you are what you've done, I love you." And when Severus exploded in me, he responded simply, tenderly, "Lydia, Lydia."

The bonds around my wrists loosened of their own accord, as the frenetic desire was replaced with the glow of satisfaction. I was able finally to touch Severus as he lay beside me, and I trailed my fingers along his face and shoulders and his chest, rising and falling with his slow deep breaths. His eyes were closed, his face was relaxed, content. Without the tension of worry, he looked younger, more handsome. I smiled wistfully, thinking _I'd do anything to bring goodness and peace to your life, always_. I was about to speak this thought aloud, when his face changed.

Severus grimaced and clenched his fist. With a shake of his shoulders he rose. As he strode across the room and I stared at his naked form, he made an angry gesture, as if to slam his tattooed arm violently into the bedpost. Only an instant in time, he whisked his arm up and out of the way as he stalked on, not even breaking stride.

He began to dress purposefully. I arose too, the long locks of hair trailing around my naked body. "You didn't have to tie me," I said teasingly. Then I caught a glimpse of myself and that long red hair in an ornate dusky mirror.

"I'm not a redhead," I objected, as I walked over to stand in front of it and observe my reflection. In the glass I could see the truth I wanted to deny. I was merely a substitute for Lily. A wave of disappointment and jealousy rushed through me, and something else. Pity. The heartbreaking longing of unrequited love and a yearning to resolve it. "I'm not Lily." I said firmly. I picked up one of the knives from the work table, ready for a second time that day to cut my hair.

"Leave it," Severus commanded. I lowered the knife from my head, but I didn't put it down.

"You've been loyal to her, for years." I said. "Despite what you've done, you've held onto that love. That's your blessing and your torture."

At this, he reacted, scowling fiercely. "I chose evil over love. _That _is my torture."

"You won't find goodness or happiness by wallowing in past wrongs. It's been long enough, it's time to put it behind you," I pleaded. "You have the right to forgiveness. You have the right to love again."

"I have to go," he said sharply.

I felt dread, a fear of losing him. "You don't have to be chained to your past. I won't give up on you, regardless of the consequences." And then I shamelessly begged, "Please, don't leave me."

He gave me a quick puzzled look and then his face softened again. "I'm not leaving you," he reassured me. "You've been my only comfort, my strength, my lo…." he broke off not finishing the word my heart was leaping toward. "There are things I must do. And until I do, you're not safe. I can't risk even thinking…" he broke off again. "I'm not leaving you," he repeated emphatically. "But I must go now. Stay here. You'll be safe in this room. I will come back," he hesitated, "when I can."

And with that, he left in his usual dramatic flourish of swirling robes, his footsteps echoing determinedly, until the heavy door closed with a resounding slam, and then silence. The music from earlier had stopped; I was alone in the quiet with my thoughts, aware of the smallest whispers of sounds I hadn't noticed before. The faint moan of wind outside, the weary ticking of a clock.

_Just one word. "Obliviate." I could have put an end to this long ago. I could end it all now. Lydia would be free of me. And I. . . I'm accustomed to being sustained by memories. But I can't do it. I can't bring myself to utter that one word, to forever send Lydia, real, physical, unpredictable, Muggle, Lydia out of my life. I don't even want to leave her alone at this moment, but it seems Harry requires my attention. So like a Potter to be interfering with my happiness. _

_There's McGonagall. If she's prowling around at this hour of the night, no doubt Harry is close by._

* * *

Thank You to those of you who've reviewed. It means a lot to me!


	22. Not The End

As usual, Severus had left me alone, but this time, I had the memory of our lovemaking to think on. I was content to linger in daydreamy bliss, Emotionally, physically, I'd never been happier. But my mind was not at peace. I walked closer to the fireplace to warm myself, trailing that annoying floor-length red hair. I'd never escape Lily's ghost would I? I'd been a suitable substitute for Lily for tonight, but beyond that? I didn't know. At least he'd said my name, not hers. Couldn't I be content with that? Instead I had that awful feeling that I was about to lose him. He said he was coming back, that he wasn't leaving me. So why did I feel like he was? It's not like he could go back to Lily; she was dead, after all.

In an instant, a horrified realization rammed through me, and all thoughts of caution, Severus' command to me to stay put, were shoved aside. I suddenly knew, knew with every fiber of my being. Severus' words echoed in my mind. He'd said, "This is my punishment, to be forever linked with the Dark Lord. Until he's defeated. Or until I die."

He was going to confront this Dark Lord. And I had driven him to it. Asking him how he could still follow the Dark Lord, telling him I knew he was good, that he could choose to be good. What did I know of Magic, Witches, Wizards, or of the power this Dark Lord might have over Severus? But despite my ignorance, I'd told Severus to break free of his past, and that I'd stand by him regardless of the consequences, not even thinking that the consequences could be his death.

That, I couldn't accept. I could accept Severus as a wizard, even as an evil wizard if I had to. But I couldn't let him die. I had to stop him. I knew I was helpless against the kind of evil powers he was facing, but I didn't care. If I could find him in time, I could tell him, it didn't matter. That I would love him regardless, that he didn't have to choose like he did with Lily. I quickly dressed, still holding that knife, clinging to it like a talisman, shifting it from hand to hand as I put on my clothes.

I was afraid I'd have to break out, but the door had a key in the lock; I turned it and left the room with no difficulty. I was in a dark narrow corridor. I needed to find stairs, needed to go up. I began walking the way I thought we'd come from, and soon reached a staircase. I was encouraged by the dim light of candles at the top of the stairs, where I encountered a heavy wooden door. I slowly pushed open the door a crack, and heard voices in the distance. I couldn't distinguish what was being said, but it sounded like a crowd. I opened the door wider and peered out. Another deserted corridor. I began walking in the opposite direction of the voices I'd heard—I didn't want to find anyone except Severus.

The corridor turned onto another, and another, and then I heard that same sound of a crowd again. Louder now, the sounds of voices were joined by clanging and banging. I decided to keep going, keep to the shadows if I could. As I approached the noise, I could see a rectangle of dim light, as the corridor opened onto another room. Slowly I advanced; from the sound, I could tell the crowd was further off; I could at least reach that light, and decide how next to proceed.

At the end of the corridor, was an open area, with a lofty ceiling several stories high and a huge staircase. There were people hurrying back and forth across the area, and all activity seemed to be converging towards one room with double doors. Every time those doors opened to allow someone to enter, the din from within surged forth.

Opposite that room, was another set of massive doors that I suspected were the main entrance to the castle. As I stood there pressed up against the wall, I wondered how I could exit undetected. In the few moments I'd been watching, there seemed to be an endless flow of young people crossing the area, presumably the students, all making their way to that one room.

As I pondered this problem, the doors of that mysterious room wer,e opened wide and the sounds of clanging and banging increased and seemed to surround me. I shrunk back in fright as a knight in a suit of armor marched stiffly past me, followed shortly by another, and another and still more. I watched as this parade of knights made their way to the great main doors, which opened as they approached, and allowed them to exit the castle. They were joined by more armor clad figures, emerging from other corridors and down the staircase. Walking along with them were statues of metal, stone, and marble.

I was jostled several times by this march of the sculptures, which encouraged me to believe that they must be oblivious to my presence. I contemplated joining their procession to the exit but I balked in fear of being trampled. When the last of them finally passed, I stepped out of the corridor cautiously, thinking to run quickly behind the final marcher. Instead, I was arrested in my tracks by the sound of a voice shouting out, "Where's Professor Snape?"

From within the large room, I heard a woman respond, "He's done a bunk." Her words were followed by cheers.

He hadn't done a bunk, I thought. But I knew he'd left the castle. I looked toward the doors which had now closed behind the last of the knights. I'd missed my chance. Before I could decide what to do next, a ghastly voice rang out through the castle, prompting screams of terror from the students. I huddled back against the wall again. "Give me Harry Potter!" shrieked the voice.

Harry Potter. The boy Severus was determined to protect. He was probably on his way to defend him right now. Did I really want to stop him? I'd encouraged him to find the good within himself, and now I was going to tell him I didn't care? How easy it was to get caught up in the moment and forget lofty ideals. I reproached myself for accusing Severus of Lily's death. It had always been obvious to me the pain he felt about that. I knew about his struggle to overcome evil, if only vaguely. And I realized now, that he was going to face down his demons once and for all, to the death. And knowing that, knowing that he'd made love to me with the realization that he might not live to see another day, was like a knife into my heart. I wanted to find him now, but not to stop him. To help him, save him, whatever I could do, at least to see him again.

I'd no idea how I would accomplish this, or even how I'd get out of the castle, but then like a dream, I heard a man's voice speaking, "Follow on. Let's evacuate in an orderly fashion, quietly please, no need to push, we'll get you all out safely." Despite his words there was a fair amount of pushing going on, as the frightened students made their way up the marble staircase.

I decided that in such a moment, everyone would be focused on their own safety, and I could quite possibly join the crowd without undue attention. I pushed my way in gently among the students, crouching slightly to better match their heights. I had to gather that cumbersome hair up over my arm to keep myself and others from stepping on it, but I was able to follow the group without mishap, up the stairs, into another room and through that room into a tunnel.

The tunnel emerged onto a pub, of all places. Here was chaos. The tense silence of our evacuation was now replaced with a mixture of panic, rejoicing and hysteria. Students were conferring with one another, some people disappeared before my eyes, others were crying, and several adults wandered through the midst attempting to maintain order. All I wanted to do was get out. Fortunately, making a speedy exit from a crowded pub happened to be one of my best Muggle skills.

Out on the street of this quaint little village, it was quieter, but there were still more people wandering about than you'd expect for the middle of the night. I began walking before I even realized that I was feeling again that instinctive connection with Severus. Despite the waves of fear and dread that seemed to line my way, I pushed on, towards a dilapidated house at the top of a hill, the perfect picture of a haunted house, right down to the eerie glow of a flicking flame from within the one unboarded window.

I shoved in among overgrown bushes and peered in the window to see Severus, speaking with a dreadful looking man, bald, deformed, skeletal-looking, with a glow of pure evil in his eyes. The Dark Lord, I thought, shivering. I had thought to reach out my thoughts to Severus to encourage him, but when I saw those evil eyes, I knew I had to keep myself hidden, even my thoughts. I almost didn't even dare to breathe. Severus' back was to me, I couldn't see his face or guess at what he was saying, but the ugly man seemed to be calm, expressionless. Perhaps Severus still had a chance.

But then in an instant, the man's eyes burned again, his face contorted in hatred, and he gestured to something unseen. Severus began to back away, I could see him shrink away from something in horror and then I did too, because I saw the snake, inside of a glowing orb that floated over Severus. A huge beast larger than a person, which reared up its head and fastened its fangs on Severus' neck as he raised his wand in vain. Then it dropped him to the floor, and floated with its glowing cage behind the evil one, who bent down over Severus and took the wand from his hand.

I was too terrified to cry or scream aloud, but the pain I was feeling seemed to scream inside me. As I watched helplessly, the man and his snake left. Only Severus was there, crumpled on the floor, bleeding, the first time I'd ever seen him powerless. I was about to ignore my fears, and run to his side, but then a young man with glasses came running to him. He seemed to speak to him for a moment, and then a girl joined him. With a wand the boy drew a foggy breath from Severus, and began placing it in a flask the girl held.

I didn't know what this meant, I feared they were stealing his soul, and in outrage, oblivious of danger, I smashed the window with the knife I held and climbed inside, crying. "Leave him alone," I yelled and knelt down beside Severus. He looked into my eyes, and I knew his soul was intact.

"_Hush, Lydia," _he chided me gently, in thought._ "There was no other way."_ His hand was shaking as he pressed it to the gaping wound on his neck. I placed on my hand on top of his, aiding his futile effort.

"_There must be something you can do," _I thought, _"Some magic. . .Please. . .Stay with me. . . live." _

"_No," _was his firm reply_. "I cannot."_

I knew it was true, by the red blood that was running out from between our fingers, and by the paleness of his face. I reached my other hand now, to that face I loved.

He spoke aloud gasping, "Look. . . at. . .me."

I looked into his dark eyes, as our minds locked, as I felt the panic of losing him and the undeniable rush of love for him overriding every other thought or feeling. I could feel his vitality fading as he absorbed my thoughts, and then one last thought from him, as clear as if he'd spoken, "_I love you, Lydia_." And then, his eyes became blank.

That evil voice began shrieking out from the sky again, but I paid no attention to the words. The girl and boy ignored me, speaking in frightened voices to one another, and then hurried away. I was alone now. The Dark Lord had gone, Severus was gone. I began sobbing over his lifeless body knowing that this time he wouldn't come back to me again.


	23. Ever After

I cried over Severus until I had to stop just to breathe. I finally looked away from his cold white face, lost to me now. I caught sight of that knife I'd brought, so foolishly thinking a mere piece of steel could have defeated such evil. The long red hair that Severus had given me was drenched with his blood. I picked up the knife and began cutting it off. There was no need now to remind Severus of his lost love. He was with Lily now, and I was the one left to carry the burden of a love lost.

I don't know how long I stayed there, unwilling to leave Severus. But eventually I heard voices approaching.

"I knew nothing of this," said a trembling-sounding voice of an elderly woman. "All this time. . ."

A young girl's voice responded. "I always said Dumbledore trusted him."

And then a male voice, argumentative, "That's very well for you to say Hermione, he didn't torment you the way he did Harry and me."

And another fellow, "I understand it now."

A trapdoor in the floor opened and four people gaped at me in surprise.

The older woman, obviously a witch in her black dress and peaked hat, came towards me. "My dear, who are you?"

"My name is Lydia Watkins." I replied.

"But what are you doing here?" she persisted.

I raised my hands helplessly. What indeed? I hadn't been able to help Severus. "Nothing," I said ruefully. "There's nothing I could do. He's dead." Tears started flowing again.

The witch moved beside me and patted me awkwardly on the shoulder, "There, there," she soothed.

The young girl was walking about inspecting the piles of hair scattered on the floor. "It was a Disillusionment Charm," she declared. "I thought I heard a voice. Didn't I say?" she demanded of the red-haired young man. "I told you I heard a voice say, 'Leave him alone!' A woman's voice, that's what I said."

The redhead shrugged, "I didn't hear it, Hermione. Sorry. I was a little preoccupied avoiding Voldemort and his friendly little snake."

Hermione briskly approached me. "Were you here when Nagini attacked Professor Snape?"

"Nagini?" I murmured.

"The snake," she said impatiently.

I nodded.

"But why were you here at all my dear?" the older witch asked.

"I love him." I said simply.

They exchanged puzzled glances, but didn't question me more, but they introduced themselves to me, and at last I knew who Harry Potter was. They spoke of Severus with sadness, respect and admiration as they arranged his body, hands folded across his chest, and levitated him with their wands. In a solemn procession, we escorted him back to the castle, silently. From time to time, the witch, Professor McGonagall, reached to me and grasped my hand.

There was quite a noisy crowd at the castle as we approached, and when people caught sight of Severus' body, some began to cheer, but Professor McGonagall interrupted them quickly. Casting a charm with her wand to amplify her voice, she announced, "This man is a hero. Professor Snape has been working on Dumbledore's orders all these years. He sacrificed his life at Voldemort's hands so that Harry could fulfill his destiny of defeating the Dark Lord. He played his role of Death Eater so convincingly that Voldemort trusted him completely. This enabled him to protect Harry from Voldemort's schemes. This man, Severus Snape, is a hero. Please show the respect he deserves."

At that, the crowd fell silent, and I was overcome again with emotion, and tears. My heart had not deceived me, I wasn't a twisted lover of evil. Severus had been all I thought. I only hoped he knew, in his dying moments that my doubts were only temporary. That I couldn't have given myself to him had I not deep down, still believed in his goodness, despite my doubts.

* * *

I learned bits and pieces about the Wizarding World and the wars they'd waged against the Dark Lord Voldemort. Very scary stuff. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd never have believed it. Hermione lectured me seriously about the Statue of Secrecy, which at least cleared up why Severus had been so reluctant to reveal the truth to me. "They're going to put Aleck on trial for what he told you," she said.

"Good," I said, spitefully, even though I now knew he was working on Severus' orders to give me a healing potion and keep me out of danger. I wasn't ready to forgive him for being so rude about it and enjoying my discomfort so much.

"You can't speak of this to anyone." Hermione insisted. "Usually we use the Obliviate spell to erase Muggle's memories when they inadvertently stumble upon some Magical knowledge."

"That's terrible!" I said, afraid that she was threatening to wipe out my cherished memories of Severus. The only thing I had left of him. I'd even had to give up the necklace he'd given me; it was a Magical Object, I'd been told, not to be trusted in the hands of a Muggle. I was very unwilling to do it, but at the gentle urging of Professor McGonagall, who assured me that it would be returned if deemed necessary, I agreed and handed it over.

"Professor McGonagall feels we can trust you," Hermione said. "She's convinced the Ministry of Magic that in your case, it would do more harm than good to erase four years of memories." From the frown on her face, I could see that Hermione wasn't exactly pleased with this decision.

"Don't worry," I tried to reassure her. "I'm not going to be telling people about this—they'll think I've lost my mind."

I was allowed to attend Severus' funeral. It was surreal. I'd never felt so out of place in my life. I finally grasped the meaning of Muggle. I felt so plodding, ordinary, and ignorant, among all these wizards and witches. All I wanted to do was sob brokenheartedly, but there didn't seem to be anyone who shared my grief. Most people were still abuzz with the story of Harry Potter defeating Voldemort, and the various gossip about who was now headed to Azkaban, the prison.

The kindest people who spoke of Severus, regaled each other with stories of detentions and scathing sarcasm and then added as an afterthought, "Who would have thought that he was actually on our side?" But there were others who claimed he was an opportunist who switched sides as it suited him and was just lucky to have ended up on the right side in the end. I wanted to defend him, but I was afraid to say a word; I'd actually overheard one ferret-faced blond boy saying "Who let in the Muggle?" When he saw me looking at him, he glared at me, and I hurried away, worried that he was about to Obliviate me.

The funeral ceremony was very restrained and seemed to reflect the unresolved debate over Severus' true allegiances. Professor McGonagall's words to the crowd the morning after Severus' death had been more touching and heartfelt than the faint praise that was meted out on this day. Of all the people there, she seemed to be the only with any sense of compassion. She approached me only briefly, looking me in the eyes, and said, "You have a good heart, my girl. Stay strong."

Oh, that made me cry, and made me long desperately for my own mother.

* * *

It was a month after Severus' death. I'd gone back to my home in the city, back to work. I had to tell Taima and the others that Severus had died, without explaining more than that he was involved in counter-terrorism, and that I wasn't even allowed the details of how he died, I only knew that he had.

That's when I found out I was pregnant. Of course. That's Mother Nature for you, pushing us humans, Muggle and Wizard alike, to reproduce even in the midst of war. Those days locked up with Aleck, drinking God-knows-what potions, not even thinking about keeping up with birth control pills. All that longing for once, just once, with Severus. So I could end up an unwed mother with a secret dead wizard as the father of my child.

To be honest I was happy about it, in a bittersweet way. Terrified, but happy. I think McGonagall had suspected it before I even knew; it would explain why she kept sending Hermione to check up on me. Once I filled Hermione in, she seemed a little less resentful of being assigned as my mentor.

"I'm pregnant," I told her. "With Severus' child."

"Oh," she said, looking a bit conflicted. "I suppose that's why McGonagall didn't want to Obliviate your memories. It's quite likely your child will be a witch or wizard."

"I wondered about that," I said. "What do I do?"

"I can tell you everything you need to know," Hermione said confidently. I didn't doubt it.

I had to tell my family about my pregnancy also. I rang them, and when my dad answered, before he had a chance to cut me off, I blurted out, "I'm pregnant. I thought you should know that you're about to be a grandparent."

There was silence, long enough for me to wonder whether their unforgiveness would include their grandchild too. Then my father spoke, sounding reluctant. "Ummm, I, we never did tell you. Well, we already are. Grandparents." Now the silence was mine. "Adia, she got married last year, and she just had a baby girl. In March."

I was stunned. I'd been calling them, reaching out, begging for forgiveness and all the while, Adia had moved on? Gotten MARRIED? And they were still acting like I was the horrible destroyer of all their happiness?

I wanted to lash out in anger, but for my child's sake, I forced myself to try to rise above. "That's nice." I said. "I'm _not_ married." I'm sure my tone was a little snide. It was the best I could do.

My father coughed uncomfortably. "Why don't you come over on Sunday? Adia will be here with her baby, and her husband. I think she'll be happy to see you."

Humph. Happy to lord it over me that she had a husband, a father for her child. And the first grandchild. It was ironic that after all this time, I'd ended up with the same circumstances I'd tried to prevent when I stole Adia's fiancé. I wanted to shout at life, fate, destiny whatever you call it and say, "I get the point!"

* * *

I couldn't tell my family much about Severus. I told him his name and that he'd died. I don't think they believed it. But they were all too willing to forgive me now that Adia was happy and I'd gotten my comeuppance. I know they thought I'd just gotten knocked up by some loser who left me. I'm sure they even thought I made up his name.

So when an odd little lawyer from the Ministry of Magic showed up with the Last Will and Testament of Severus Snape, in which he left to me his home in Spinner's End and the contents of his vault at Gringott's, I felt a little vindicated. I hadn't been just a one-night stand to him, a momentary attempt to relive his love for Lily. By the date on the will, I realized he'd written it after my accident. While I was handcuffed in bed, cursing him, he was already making arrangements to make me a lasting part of his life.

Along with the will, the lawyer also returned to me the emerald necklace. I received it back eagerly now, glad to see it again as a reminder of happier days.

"It's a beautiful piece," he said. "Goblin-made."

"Is that good?"

He shot me a withering look, and didn't answer, but continued. "An ingenious design. Three ampoules of powerfully concentrated potions, concealed by these larger emeralds. These holes," he indicated the pin-pricks on the back, "releasing the potions to the skin. The whole enchanted by several charms. One to ensure the required potions are released as needed, another to prevent the piece from being removed involuntarily."

"How could I take it off then," I asked, hoping not to get another scornful look for being a dumb Muggle.

"I can only assume that he had no wish to coerce you, or perhaps he wanted to ensure you didn't suspect its magic power. In that case you would have been exempt from the Unremovable Charm. The emeralds themselves, are the finest I've seen. I'm sure a large price was paid for them."

Hermione was studying the necklace. "Blood Replenishing Potion, Essence of Dittany, Blended Poisons Antidote." She looked up with a troubled expression. "You were there. He only had to ask it from you, and you could have saved his life."

Her sad eyes seemed to accuse me. "I didn't know," I said. "Why didn't he let me know?" As the realization took hold, grief hit me again. Tears; I was tired of them, but I couldn't stop myself. I looked pleadingly at Hermione, willing her to believe me, to erase that accusing look in her eyes. Then she began to cry too, and I understood. She cared for him too. No wonder she'd always seemed distant with me, despite our arranged connection.

Impulsively, I reached out and hugged her. I was comforted by the knowledge that I wasn't the only one who truly mourned Severus. I knew how hard it was to grieve in secret, unable to confide in family or friends. Hermione, poor girl. People would probably mock her for fancying a teacher, but I'd gone through that in my teenage years, and I knew how real it felt at the time. I wasn't going to call attention to my suspicions, but as she and I hugged and cried, I knew I wasn't the only one being comforted.

* * *

One day Hermione arrived with an invitation for me to attend an unveiling of a portrait of Severus at Hogwarts. "Harry finally convinced them to listen to reason," she said. "Every former Headmaster has a portrait in the Headmaster's office."

When the day arrived, I watched people unobtrusively as they acclaimed Severus as a brave man who risked his own life to protect Harry and the students at Hogwarts from the worst of the Dark Lord's designs. To my surprise and delight the portrait they unveiled featured a very lifelike Severus that actually moved and spoke with irritation.

"I can't believe that those of you who have the good fortune to be alive, have nothing better to do than to bother me," he grumbled. "Have you ever heard of the saying "Rest in Peace?"

I couldn't help it, hearing his ill-temper again made me laugh through my tears.

"Lydia?" he said. "Is that you?"

I pushed my way forward and stood directly in front of the portrait. "Hello, darling." I said affectionately. I'd never called him by any term of endearment before, as I soon found out why.

"Don't call me darling," he growled. "I'm not a child."

Well, this was as good a time as any to give him the news.

"No, but I am carrying your child, Severus."

He didn't speak for a moment. When he did, he said sardonically, "I suppose _that_ is my reward."

Men, they never could handle this kind of news well. I shouldn't have expected anything more.

"What about Lily?" I asked, "Has she forgiven you?"

"She has," he replied tersely. "As is only fair. A life for a life."

It seemed that Severus had found no more happiness in his afterlife than he had in life. This saddened me but I tried not to cry.

I reached up to touch Severus and felt only the texture of the brushstrokes of paint on the canvas. "Can I come here to see you?" I asked him.

"That" he said, "Would be a decision for the new Headmistress. But I can see no value in it. As unfortunate as it may be, the fact remains that I'm dead. I can't reach out of this portrait to touch you, and you need to live and care for our child."

At that, he vanished from the portrait leaving only a canvas with the background of the Slytherin banner. I hadn't even had a chance to ask him about the necklace that could have saved him.

I noticed that everyone had left the room. I went out the door, and there Minerva McGonagall was waiting.

"He disappeared from the portrait," I said. "What happened?"

"Those who have gone don't always choose to interact with the living. Sometimes it's best to grieve, rather than to cling to ghosts," she said crisply. Then she added, "He played his part superbly. No one knew. He went to his death with no one at his side. Except you." Her eyes were shimmering. "I never knew." She squeezed my hand tightly. "Give him time," she said, and quickly turned away.

* * *

Now that I knew there was a way to communicate with Severus, I couldn't just forget it. I wanted to talk with him, to share with him my happiness at our child-to-be, to learn more about the night he died. Especially that. I was still torturing myself with guilt that I'd driven him to confront Voldemort, and the fresh guilt that I'd been wearing a necklace full of life-saving potions while his life bled out in front of me. I begged Hermione to ask Professor McGonagall to let me come to Hogwarts to see the portrait of Severus again. It took a while, but finally Hermione came to me with the news that I could go to Hogwarts the next day, to see Severus.

"I need to ask another favor of you," I said. "Can you please undo this red hair? I expected it to grow back brown, like my own hair, but that's not happening. I think I need a magical solution."

She looked at me with intense concentration, then nodded, pulled out her wand, and said "_Colovaria_." To my relief, it worked. Severus would see me for myself tomorrow.

"Why didn't you let me know about the necklace?" I asked him sadly. "I could have saved you."

"And left you defenseless?" Severus retorted. "Never! It would have taken every drop of those potions to save my life. I made them to protect you."

"I wasn't even in danger after all," I told him. "The police said the driver of that Cobra Mystichrome had just fallen asleep at the wheel, and didn't even know what had happened."

"It's a simple spell to make someone fall asleep for a moment," Severus replied. "You can't just dismiss it. The mere fact that I spoke with you more than once was enough to put you in danger."

"But I didn't need the necklace after all. And you did," I said. "I feel like it's my fault you died."

"Your fault?" he burst out. "It's certainly not your fault. Voldemort's fault, yes. My fault, perhaps. If anyone else is to blame, it would be Dumbledore, for keeping his _ingenious_ plan to himself until was too late to implement a better plan. And for all his secrecy and plotting, the best he could come up with was a ridiculous shell game with wands? Did he forget that we're _wizards_, not street magicians?"

From across the room came a voice. "I'm right here, Severus. I can hear you." It was Dumbledore speaking from his portrait.

"Brilliant," Severus snapped. "I'm happy to enlighten you, Albus. Perhaps if you'd seen fit to listen to me when we were both _alive_, we could have devised a better plan that didn't require so many needless deaths."

"Severus," Dumbledore said, reprovingly, "Who are you to speak of needless deaths? I trusted you with much, but I was afraid to confide in you completely. Perhaps I was wrong. If you can tell me honestly that you never once considered re-joining the Death Eaters then I will offer you my heartfelt apology."

Severus merely glowered at this and did not respond to Dumbledore. To me he said, "As you can see, there's an appalling lack of privacy here. I'm so sorry we can't have a proper conversation, but that's death for you." And away he went.

* * *

I moved into the house at Spinner's end; it had a room I could use as a nursery, and the money I'd save on rent would be helpful for raising a child. It was a gloomy place, desperately in need of a woman's touch, but it gave me a feeling of connection to Severus, to live where he had once lived. It was the only connection I could have, because despite repeated requests, Hermione was unable to get permission for me to come to Hogwarts again to see Severus. I found out why one day when she said, "I'm sorry, he's very stubborn."

"_He!"_ I exclaimed. "_Severus_ doesn't want to see me?" By this time, I was more than eight months into my pregnancy, tired and frustrated, ready to be done with it all, and emotional enough to cry at the slightest provocation. "I suppose he's busy catching up with Lily, chatting about the good old days," I sniffled.

"I'm sure it's very complicated," Hermione said, in a reassuring tone. "I don't claim to be an expert on the afterlife, but I'm sure he doesn't have the same perspective on things as we do. He probably doesn't even realize how much time has passed."

"Have _you _seen him?" I asked, suspicious of where she'd obtained her non-expert opinions.

"I haven't," she replied. "Professor McGonagall says he shows up once a week to meet with her and all the former Headmasters. And that he usually gets into an argument with Dumbledore, or sometimes one of the others, and then disappears after delivering a scathing comment."

I laughed through my tears in spite of myself. "Same as he ever was."

Hermione laughed too. "They have another portrait of him at the Ministry of Magic, and I've heard he's just as obnoxious over there."

* * *

My mum and Adia were with me when my little girl was born. I was enthralled by that tiny little face of hers, the tiny dark ringlets of hair on her head, the little rosebud lips, and those dark brown eyes reminding me so much of Severus.

Three weeks later, I was at home, alone with this impossible, unpredictable baby. Adia and mum had been helping me for a few weeks, but I'd had my fill of Adia's bossiness and my mum's subtle reminders of my "single-mother" status. I was on my own now, and even though Hermione had insisted that for the first years of life my baby wouldn't exhibit any magical behavior, I kept studying books and my child, trying to convince myself that these wakeful nights, and crying and wailing were normal.

I was pacing the floor, holding her to my shoulder patting her on the back, hoping that this latest bout of screaming was finally at an end, wondering if I dared to try to lay her down in her crib, when there was a knock at my door.

I opened it to two men holding a large wrapped package. "G' afternoon ma'am," the one said. "Lydia Watkins?" I nodded. "This is for you. Where'd ya want 'im?"

I stepped back as they were already walking in. I was pretty sure from their appearance that they were from the Magic side of things. I didn't know how to answer since I was still not sure _what_ they were bringing me. Then the second man said, with a chuckle, "Better think it over. They moved him five times at the Ministry of Magic. Last time was to a cupboard under the stairs."

"Din't work," the first man laughed in reply. "That just made him louder. Never knew when to expect it. Suddenly this deep voice would be booming out from apparently nowhere. "Don't _think_ you can get away with this!" They both laughed.

"It was a good joke on the new workers though. Send them to get something from that cupboard. And if they happened upon him hiding out there, he'd scare the pants off of them. "What do you think you're looking for you twit!" and then when they jump and stammer some excuse he'd berate the fellow for being a coward and a disgrace to wizards everywhere."

While they were talking they'd unwrapped the package, and I could see clearly that it was a portrait frame just like the one in McGonagall's office at Hogwarts. Severus wasn't in it but I knew it was his. I directed them to hang it over the fireplace in my living room, excited at the prospect of having access to Severus in my very own home.

"Are ya sure?" the man asked. "You don't have a cupboard under the stairs d' ya?"

"It's fine," I declared impatiently, a little tired of their joking at Severus' expense.

After they left, I stood there contemplating the blank painting. Then before my eyes, Severus appeared.

"Hello!" I said happily. I looked down at the baby and held her up to face him. "Look Lily, it's Daddums."

"You named her Lily!" Severus thundered. "What were you thinking, woman! I've had enough of that name to last me an eternity."

Baby Lily started crying as he yelled. I tried to comfort and quiet her. No wonder, poor thing—I was a little unnerved myself by his outburst. I tried to explain. "Hermione told me the whole story about you and Lily, and how you dedicated your life to fighting evil in her memory. I thought this would be a fitting tribute to you, and to her." My nervousness had passed, and now the urge to confront was rising. "I'm sorry you don't like it. I would have asked for your opinion, but you weren't speaking to me."

"I'm sorry," Severus replied, looking genuinely contrite. "I thought we might both be happier if we just went our separate ways and didn't have to deal with the frustration of _this_," he said, gesturing to the portrait frame. "I was wrong. I want us to be together if we can. For her." He nodded towards the baby in my arms, who was quiet again.

"You mean Lily?" I said, looking down at her.

"Stop it!" he yelled again, raising his hand to his forehead. "This will not do! What's her middle name?"

"Eileen," I replied.

"That's my mother's name!" he scowled.

"I _know_," I retorted, exasperated. "I was trying to honor your memory." I was beginning to wish I _did_ have a cupboard under the stairs.

"I've had enough of memories," he grumbled. "We'll have to change it."

"I'm not changing her name, Severus," I argued. "My family wouldn't understand. My mum thinks I've named her Lily after an Aunt, and I don't want to start another feud in my family."

"It can't be the same," he continued stubbornly. "I'll call her Lil if I have to, but it can't be Lily."

"Lil is fine," I said. "Now, can you please say something nice, _quietly_ to Lil, so she's not afraid of you?"

He stared silently for a moment, his brown eyes growing faintly warmer. And then he began to sing.

His voice was always like music to me, but I'd never heard him sing before. It was clearly some Magic world version of a lullaby.

"Hush little one, no need to cry,

mother and father are here nearby

Hush little one, time to dream,

Dancing at night in a moonbeam

Listen to the song I sing,

Quiet as an owl's wing.

Magic and love surround you my sweet,

Close your eyes and go to sleep."

Every night, before tucking Lil into bed, I'd sit in a chair in the dark, rocking her, and Severus would sing her a bedtime song, his voice low, sweet and gentle. There in the dark, hugging my baby girl, hearing Severus' voice, feeling enveloped in love and magic, I knew this was the life I wanted.

The End.

* * *

A/N I appreciate all of my readers, but special thanks to those of you who've reviewed. If you've read my story all the way to the end, please leave a review for me, even if you don't like the way I ended it-I can handle criticism. I have an idea for writing an "alternate ending" to this story; it might be a while though. Add me to your author alerts if you'd like to see more from me. (you do this by going to my profile and clicking "subscribe".


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